Fragile
by Aireon Maris
Summary: When you're a mother, you realize how terribly fragile life can be. And how far you're willing to go to protect it.
1. Chapter 1

Fragile

When you're a mother, you realize how terribly fragile life can be. And how far you're willing to go to protect it.

Author's notes: Thanks for choosing to read "Fragile." If you haven't read my stories "Sunshine and Shadows" and "Maximum Entropy" then please do so now. This story will make a lot more sense if you do.

Disclaimer: I am borrowing all the recognizable characters. I just didn't tell Joss Wheedon or Mutant Enemy. Please don't stake me.

Flames will be used for vengeance spells.

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"I don't care what your book says, Giles. My daughter isn't a 'child of prophecy.' In case you've forgotten, the last time I was involved in a prophecy, I died." Buffy clattered down the ladder/stairs from the loft into the main room of the Magic Box. Her Watcher followed closely, his glasses in one hand and a book in the other.

"But the signs are all here," he protested. "'Born of the Chosen One, the one that stands alone.' And it even mentions both of the parents dying and being resurrected."

Buffy shook her head at him, unwilling to listen to his arguments.

"Caddie is the only child ever to be born of an active Slayer!" Giles said in exasperation. "That very obviously means something."

She stopped and tilted her head. "Really? The only one?" she asked, faintly curious in spite of herself.

"There's record of another Slayer having a son, but he was born before she was activated. Caddie, though, was born _while_ you were a Slayer."

Buffy smiled wryly. "I was there, you know," she said. Then she sighed. "Giles, I don't _want_ Caddie to fulfill a prophecy. I just want her to have a normal life, the kind I couldn't have."

"Well, considering her parents are a Slayer and a former vampire, somehow I doubt that will ever happen," Giles told Buffy rather bluntly. She crossed her arms but couldn't deny the truth.

"Fine. What else does this prophecy of yours say?"

"It's quite fascinating, actually," Giles said, his enthusiasm shining through his blue eyes. "As I said, it fits Caddie perfectly. Born of the Chosen one, father is 'cursed of the darkness, yet champion for the light.' And here it says 'a dark one pure of heart, rewarded for his service.' That can only be Angel. A vampire with a soul, becoming human again after fighting for good."

"Again, I know the story. I was there," Buffy said, sitting down at the research table. The round table was strangely empty, and looked rather unclothed. She looked around for Doyle, and heard someone rummaging around in the back.

"Yes, of course. Sorry." Giles slapped his glasses back on his face and consulted his book again. "Um…born of the Chosen One, the one that stands alone, yes, yes…Ah! Here we are. 'And she will stand at the end of days where darkness meets the light, and she will hold back the darkness and call the sun forth to vanquish the night.'" Giles looked up expectantly.

"Very poetic," Buffy said dryly. "And oh-so-surprisingly obscure. That's all it says?"

"W-well, no, it goes on at length about the Sun-caller, but—"

"Sun-caller?" Buffy interrupted in disbelief. "They couldn't come up with a better name than that? A thousand years of prophecy and Caddie ends up with 'Sun-caller.'" She shook her head. "Look, Giles. I know you mean well, but I'm not raising Caddie like John Connor because of a prophecy. So you can put the book away and we'll forget this conversation ever happened."

Giles deflated slightly and rubbed his forehead. "Very well. As you wish. Um…Who is John Conner?"

Buffy laughed and patted Giles' arm. "You really need to get out more," she told him. "I gotta blaze. Caddie's sick and by now Angel's probably frantic because he can't figure out how to make her better." She checked the clock behind the counter. "And I have to pick up Dawn from school. I'll see you tomorrow, 'kay?"

She got to her feet and grabbed her purse. Giles removed his glasses, stuttered for a few seconds, and then asked, "How is Dawn handling…things?"

Buffy stopped, her shoulders slumping slightly. It had only been a few months since their mother had died, and Dawn had lost her best friend on the same day. And if that friend happened to be a vampire, no one was saying so. Not after what Spike had done for Dawn.

"She's a little better," Buffy told him. "I actually got a complete sentence from her last night."

"That's good," Giles said sadly. "That's…good. And you? How are you holding up?"

Buffy sighed. "I have Angel," she said. "That's all that's getting me through." The bell over the door rang with innapropriate cheerfulness as she left the store. Despite what she had told Giles, her mind was filled their conversation.

It made sense. A terrible, forboding sense, but it was all the same. The Powers That Be had made it clear to Doyle that Caddie was meant for something big. They had even reassigned the seer to Sunnydale to keep an eye on her.

But this was _her_ baby they were talking about. And Buffy had no intention of letting her baby do anything dangerous, much less "vanquish the night." Sun-caller. _Please_.

Buffy waited outside the middle school for Dawn to come out. Dawn would start high school next year, a fact that tended to wig Buffy out, mostly because high school had been when her life went, quite literally, to hell.

The brunette teenager walked across the lawn to join her older sister. "Hey," Buffy said, eyeing Dawn closely.

"Hey."

"How was school?"

"Horrible." Well, ya gotta give it the girl; she was honest.

"You ready to go home?"

"I guess."

Buffy didn't press her for more. Dawn would be ready to talk in her own time. The sisters walked in silence down the street until it was broken, surprisingly, by Dawn.

"How's Caddie?"

"Still sick," Buffy replied. "Doctor said it was a cold and gave us some pink goo. And of course she hates it." She glanced over at Dawn, who only nodded. Something around Dawn's neck caught Buffy's eye and she reached over and pulled it free of her blouse. Strung on a simple silver chain was a gold ring carved in the shape of a skull.

"That's not something you see all the time," Buffy said softly. Dawn gently took it back and slipped it under her collar again.

"It was Spike's," she replied. "I found it in his crypt."

"Oh," Buffy said, and left it at that.

Once they reached the house, Dawn went straight upstairs, where she would do her homework until dinner, and afterwards go to bed. It freaked Buffy out how good Dawn was being. It just wasn't natural.

Angel was sprawled on the couch, Caddie asleep on his chest. One hand ressted lightly on the infant's back to keep her in place and the other held some French existential novel he had been reading.

"Hey," Buffy greeted, stooping to kiss her husband. "She finally doze off?"

"Yeah," he replied, looking fondly down at their daughter. "I was going to start on dinner, but I didn't have the heart to disturb her."

"God, no. Let her sleep," Buffy said swiftly. "We have spagetti sauce in the pantry. I can boil some noodles and make a salad."

"There's some garlic bread in the freezer," Angel added a little hopefully. His year as a human paled in comparison to the over two centuries of being a vampire, so food still tended to be a novelty to him. And one of the ironic things was that he discovered he actually liked garlic. Must be the Irish part of him.

"Okay. We'll have garlic bread, too." Buffy kissed him again, lingeringly and headed to the kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

Dawn closed her eyes and deepened her breathing when the door to her room opened. Buffy checked on her every night as if she was a kid and not almost fifteen. But that was probably just part of Buffy's big sister complex. As soon as the door closed, Dawn scrambled out of bed and listened for Buffy's footsteps to retreat down the stairs. It was Angel's turn to patrol tonight, so Buffy would probably stay up doing her college courses until he got back. In any case, it would mean she was distracted.

Dawn quickly changed back into street clothes and grabbed a jacket. The window stuck a little in the frame, but Dawn had been sneaking out practically every night since _that one_ and knew how to get out of the house without attracting attention.

She clicked on her flashlight as soon as she was out of sight of the house, despite the fact she knew her way by heart. In her other hand she clutched a stake, just in case. Most girls wouldn't venture into a graveyard at night except on a dare. For Dawn, it was the only place she felt safe.

The crypt remained untouched and neat, thanks to Dawn's efforts. As she slipped down the ladder to the lower level, she looked around to make sure everything was still in place. The bed was neatly made, the rugs clean, and every surface free of dust. She stood in the middle of the crypt and wished it wasn't so empty.

_Thud_.

Dawn jumped at the muffled sound, spinning around. "H-hello?" she called, lifting the stake in a trembling hand. "I-is someone there?"

"Not here. Not anywhere. Not… He's gone away."

Dawn froze at the broken rambling, cautiously edging toward a shadowy corner of the underground vault. A figure huddled against the wall, knees drawn to chest and arms wrapped around head. She turned on her flashlight and pointed it at the figure, who flinched away.

She caught sight of pale, milky skin, disheveled blonde hair, and a gaunt face before the person slithered back into the shadows. Dawn's breath caught in her throat. "Spike?" she whispered, not daring to believe.

"Spike's not here right now. If you'd like to leave a message…" he trailed off with a high-pitched giggle.

Dawn's legs gave out and she sat down hard. This was impossible. Spike was dead. The obliteration spell he set off to kill Glory had destroyed him. All they had found was the chip the Initiative had stuck in his head. And yet…

"Spike?" she whispered again. "What happened? How'd you come back?"

"It was supposed to be the end. No more. They wouldn't let it end and now it goes on and on and on and on."

The voice was unmistakable despite being borderline insane. Dawn crawled forward, straining to catch a glimpse of her friend's face. "A-are you real?" she asked softly.

He giggled again, a horrible sound that was mostly a sob. "No visitors today. Very busy."

She reached out, her hand shaking, and touched his cheek. He flinched away, but the contact was enough to reassure her. He _was_ real. Dawn gasped. He was _real._ Her Spike was back! Who cared how; she wasn't alone anymore!

"Spike, I missed you so much!" Dawn said, inching closer. "I thought you were dead and Mom's gone and there wasn't anyone else."

"No!" Spike yelled. "Go away! William's been a bad boy. He doesn't get to play."

Dawn recoiled, tears springing to her eyes. Spike clapped his hands over his ears and rocked back and forth, humming off-key.

"Not listening. Not listening. What the hell are you screaming about? I can hear you, no need to SHOUT!" He screamed the last word, making Dawn jump. Spike continued to mumble, unaware of her presence. She drew her legs to her chest and propped her chin on her knees, staring through tear-filled eyes at the vampire.

What on earth was going on?

She must have fallen asleep, because she woke with a start when her watch alarm went off. She peered at it groggily and her brain finally registered the image as five thirty am. "Crap," she muttered. She looked around for Spike and saw that he was now stretched out on his side, ice-blue eyes fixed on her face.

"Like watching you sleep," he said. "All peaceful like. Can't sleep. See too many things when I close my eyes. Do you see 'em, too? All that blood, always flowing, drowning in all of it…"

"Spike," she interrupted hastily. He blinked and fell silent. "I have to go now," she said slowly. "I have to get back before Buffy realizes I'm gone."

"Oho, the little bit's been a bad girl," Spike taunted. Dawn scowled at him.

"I'll try to come back tonight," she told him. "I'll bring you something to eat if I can. Are you hungry?"

A strange gleam entered his eyes. "Hungry, always hungry for what you can't have 'cause it's wrong now, see? Wasn't wrong before. Nothing was. It's all changed. It's the way you _see_ things." He ground the heels of his hands into his eyes. "See too much. All of the faces, all gone now; dead."

Dawn got to her feet and backed away cautiously. "Don't—don't go anywhere," she told him. "Just stay here, okay?"

He looked up at her with a despondent expression. "Don't have anywhere else to run to, pet," he said wearily.

"Okay," Dawn said uncertainly. She ran all the way home and scrambled to get into her pajamas and under the covers. She had an hour and a half before she had to get ready for school, so she could just close her eyes for a few minutes…

"Dawnie!" A sharp knock on her door jerked her awake. She sat up with a gasp. _Spike!_ He had come back, hadn't he? She wasn't imagining it?

"Dawnie, you up yet?"

"Yes!" she yelled back, her mind racing. She had definitely gone to the crypt last night, and Spike had been there. She was sure of it.

*****

Buffy eyed Dawn suspiciously as the girl munched her way through a bowl of cereal. Was it a trick of the light, or had that been a smile? Faint as a shadow and gone in a second, Buffy couldn't be sure. She wrestled Caddie into the high chair and fished a jar of applesauce from the fridge.

"When Angel was a vampire, where did he get his blood?"

Buffy was so shocked by the attempt to start a conversation that she didn't notice the subject matter. "Um…the butcher's. He'd go once a month or so and pick some up."

Dawn tilted her head thoughtfully. "Did he like cow or pig better?"

"He said pig tasted closer to human," Buffy replied.

"Did he have to feed a lot? I mean, can't they go a month off a human?"

"Yes, but that's a lot of blood," Buffy said, offering Caddie a spoonful of mashed apples. "If they take it in pints they have to feed every day."

"This is a lovely conversation to start the day off with," Angel said dryly, heading toward the tea rack. "Why the sudden interest in vampire dietary needs, Dawnie?"

"I'm reading a book," she said casually. "It gets most of its vampire facts wrong."

"Yeah?" Angel asked. "Like what?"

Dawn's expression turned wry. "Coffins," she said.

Angel scowled suddenly. "What is it about coffins? Vampires don't sleep in coffins! It's a misconception made popular by hack writers and ignorant media. In fact, they can and do move around during the day, as long as they avoid direct sunlight."

Buffy laughed. "Whoa. Got issues, much?"

"I just get tired of the legends," Angel said almost plaintively. He sipped at his tea broodingly. The doorbell rang shortly before the lock turned and Doyle's voice was heard.

"Hello, the Summers family!"

"Morning, Doyle, Cordy," Angel nodded to the couple as they entered the kitchen.

Doyle grinned in reply and plopped down next to Dawn, reaching for the mug of coffee already waiting for him. Cordelia immediately crossed over to the fridge in search of the low-fat yogurt Buffy kept specifically for her.

"So," she said. "What's on the agenda for today? Where are you two heading off for?"

"Some spring cleaning on the sewers," Buffy replied, wiping Caddie's face. "There's a new demon in town and that's where Giles thinks it'll be. And thanks again for watching Caddie on such a short notice, Cordy."

"Not even an issue," Cordelia assured her. She had come a long way since Buffy had first met her, growing from the shallow high school prom queen to the mature and potentially powerful witch she was today.

"Are you taking me to school?" Dawn asked Doyle.

"Yep. So finish your breakfast so we can hit the road. We wouldn't want you to be late, now would we?"

"Guess not." Dawn slid from her chair and grabbed her backpack. "Oh, Buffy, I'm going to hang out at Janice's after school, okay?"

Buffy looked startled at first, but quickly recovered. "That's fine, Dawnie. Really. Have fun."

The girl smiled tightly. "I will."


	3. Chapter 3

"So, I think maybe Dawn's doing better," Buffy said hopefully as she walked beside her husband through the abnormally large sewers that ran everywhere under Sunnydale. Of course, the place _had_ been built as a paradise for demons. "You know, with the going to Janice's and all?"

"Maybe," Angel replied, shining his flashlight into the shadows. He stopped to sniff the air and coughed. "I'm not getting anything through the smell. Somehow the stench was easier to ignore when I was a vampire."

Buffy fingered the handle of the battle-axe she carried. It was perfectly balanced for her; anyone else would have trouble wielding it. Angel had his favorite sword slung over his shoulder. "We'll find it," she said confidently. "It's nocturnal, so it won't leave the sewers."

"Well, the sewers are a big place," Angel pointed out. "It could take us days to find this thing."

"Not if you pick up its scent. So keep sniffing."

Angel pulled a face. "What am I, a bloodhound?"

Buffy didn't reply. She guessed there was no good time to tell Angel, so it might as well be now. "Giles thinks Caddie was born to fulfill a prophecy."

Angel stopped in his tracks and looked down at her. "Bullshit," he said flatly, startling Buffy with his strong language.

"That's my feelings about it, too," she said earnestly. "But she fits the prophecy like a glove. Supposedly she'd going to call forth the sun to vanquish the darkness or some such."

"No, she's not," Angel insisted. "She's going to have as normal a life as we can give her. She won't be a slave to destiny."

Buffy sighed. "Can we really stop it? I mean, I don't want her to be this child of prophecy Giles thinks she is, but can we keep it form happening if that's what's meant to be?"

"You're living proof that prophecies can be changed, beloved," Angel reminded her. "We'll find a way."

*****

Dawn jumped down from the ladder to the crypt floor, careful not to jar her backpack too much. "Spike?" she called. "You still here?"

"Tried running. Didn't get far. Light hurts my eyes, you know. Am I drunk? No, but I wish I was."

She startled and spun around. Spike was sitting in a different part of the crypt, staring intently at the ceiling. Dawn approached cautiously. "I—um—I brought you something to eat," she said, reaching into her backpack and pulling out the bag of pig's blood.

Spike sighed mournfully. "She used to see the stars even when she was indoors. I've been trying all day but I only see the ceiling. Pity, seeing as how I'm as crazy as she was. Only I'm not. She was filled up all with darkness and I've got the spark. It's the spark that's driving me mad, always burning. Does nothing but burn. Can't…get…it…out."

Dawn walked over to him and gasped. The front of his shirt was shredded and long, bloody lines gouged his chest over his heart. "Spike, what did you do?" she asked, putting the blood to the side and reaching out to touch the wounds. He slapped her hand away.

"Doesn't hurt. Not as much as it hurt _them_." He looked sharply at her face, his ice blue eyes suddenly lucid. "Do you hate me, little bit? Do you hate me for what I was?"

She shook her head fiercely. "Never, Spike. I like you for what you _are_. You're my friend." She picked the blood back up and held it out to him. "You have to eat."

He dropped his gaze to the bag of gelatinous liquid, his eyes tinged yellow. He reached out with a shaking hand and took it from her. Then he vamped out and bit through the plastic, blood dribbling from the corners of his mouth. It was gone in a few minutes, and Dawn wished she had brought more. When the crumpled plastic dropped from his hands, he wiped the blood from his mouth, his features returning to human.

"Shouldn't be here. 'S dangerous for a tasty bit like you. Could do something I end up regretting."

Dawn sat back on her heels. "I'm not afraid of you, Spike," she said calmly. He lunged forward suddenly, knocking her backwards. He crouched over her, one hand wrapped around her throat.

"You should be," he hissed. Then he was gone, and Dawn sat up, rubbing her throat as her heart returned to normal. "Go home," he told her dully.

"I'm going," she said. "But I'll be back tomorrow. You'll need to eat."

Spike didn't answer. He turned his face away and hummed under his breath. After a few bars, he began to sing in a broken, stilted voice. Dawn had to strain to catch the words.

"Early one morning,

Just as the sun was rising,

I heard a maid sing

In the valley below.

Oh, don't deceive me,

Oh, never leave me,

How could you use

A poor maiden so?"

Dawn sighed and shook her head as she climbed up the ladder to the surface.

*****

"Well, if you hadn't gone all Paul Bunyan on the thing, it might not have exploded!" Buffy said over her shoulder as she stomped through the front door.

"Me? I wasn't the one with the axe," Angel retorted, kicking the door shut behind him. "The only way to permanently kill a Merthan demon is dismemberment. _You're_ the one that pierced its mucus sack."

"What happened to you two?" Cordelia asked, eyeing the pair up and down. They were both covered head-to-toe in glistening, yellow slime. "Never mind. I don't want to know."

"You could have told me what it was!" Buffy continued irately. "You're the one with all this demon knowledge."

"I did tell you! I told you to avoid the torso!"

"Did you kill the demon?" Cordelia demanded.

"Yes," they said at the same time.

Cordy pointed to the stairs. "Showers. Now. I'm not letting you near Caddie like that."

"At least it doesn't smell," Buffy grumbled as she headed up the stairs, Angel on her heels. Cordelia shook her head and returned to the kitchen to discover that eight-month-old Cadence had somehow managed to get out of her high chair and was now resolutely toddling toward the dining room.

"Oh, no you don't," Cordelia said, scooping the child up into her arms. "Why do you have to be so smart? It would be so much easier if you were a normal baby."

*****

Holland Manners looked up from the report spread over the table in front of him. "So you think this child holds potential for Wolfram & Hart?"

Lilah Morgan nodded firmly. "According to the prophecies, she will be incredibly powerful. I believe that we can harness that power and groom her to serve the Senior Partners."

Manner's steepled his fingers and studied his subordinate. "You have a plan, I assume?"

"I'd like immediate retrieval of the child. She's already eight months old, and the younger we get a hold of her, the better. We can use one of our alternate dimensions to raise the child."

"You have a specific guardian in mind?"

"Yes, sir. We're already planning on entrusting the Fey to Parhon in Revona. He could easily take care of both children."

Manners considered Ms. Morgan's request for a long moment. Then he nodded and said, "You have permission to proceed."

Lilah got to her feet, gathering her files together. "Thank you, sir," she said with a faint smile.

"Lilah," Manners called before she could reach the door. She turned around to face him. "Don't embarrass me," he warned.


	4. Chapter 4

Dawn blushed under the scrutiny of the man standing behind the counter. It was the fourth time she had come in as many days, each time buying several pints of pig's blood. She knew the he had to be wondering what she was using it for, but somehow "feeding my crazy vampire friend" didn't sound like it would cut it. So she paid for her purchases and scuttled out as soon as she could, clutching the brown paper bag close to her chest.

"Dawn!"

She spun around at the sound of her name, an excuse already springing to her lips when she realized it was just Janice. "Oh. Um, hi."

"Hey, I'm glad I caught you," the other girl said, jogging up to Dawn. "You left school so fast."

"I, uh, had errands to run," Dawn said nervously.

"It's fine. But Robin and I are hitting the bronze tonight. You should come. You haven't been around much lately."

"O-okay," Dawn said. "I'll ask Buffy. If she says I can come, I'll show."

"Great!" Janice flashed her a smile. "See you later."

Dawn breathed a sigh as Janice walked away, and hurried off in the direction of the graveyard. Spike was sleeping fitfully when she arrived, so she merely placed the blood on the floor next to him and slipped out.

Buffy appeared from the kitchen when Dawn got home. "Where were you?" she asked. "I was starting to get worried."

"I-I had to get some books f-for history," Dawn stammered. "S-so I went t-to the library, b-because that's where the books are."

"Oh," Buffy said. "That's fine."

Dawn was careful not to show her relief and instead asked, "Hey, um, Janice and Robin are going to be at the Bronze tonight. Can I go?"

"Yeah, that's fine." Buffy looked startled and strangely pleased. "Angel can drop you off later."

"Great. I guess I'll get started on my homework." She retreated up the stairs as fast as she could without arousing suspicion. She closed the door to her room and leaned back against it. She couldn't keep it up much longer. Eventually she was going to have to tell someone that Spike was back, because no matter what she tried, he wasn't getting any better. And she certainly was going to tell Angel or Buffy. Willow might be more sympathetic, but she would want to let Buffy know. Oz wouldn't do anything without Willow's cooperation, and Giles wasn't even an option.

Her head snapped up. Doyle. She could tell Doyle. Not only could he keep a secret, he'd be the most willing to help, seeing as how he didn't have as much bad experience with Spike as the others did. Maybe he'd know why Spike was acting so weird.

The Bronze that night was crowded, the dance floor so packed that it was a wonder anyone was able to move. Janice and Robin kept up a lively chatter, but Dawn found herself unwilling to join in. They talked about boys and clothes and the pop quiz. Dawn couldn't help but think they were being childish. She had bigger things to worry about, like vampires and demons and apocalypses. But she pasted on a smile and nodded at all the right times.

"Oh, my gosh!" Robin suddenly squealed. "The hottest guy just walked in."

"Where?" Janice demanded. Dawn didn't bother looking.

"Over there," Robin pointed. "You know, the bleached blonde."

Dawn's eyes widened and she turned around, almost falling out of her chair. "Oh, my God," she muttered. Spike stood just inside the door, looking a little dazed. He had put on a clean blue t-shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His hair was disheveled, but it only added to his charm. Ice-blue eyes suddenly met Dawn's.

He made his way through the crowd as if drawn by a magnet and for a second he looked like the old Spike. He didn't stop until he stood in front of Dawn, just inside her personal space. Robin and Janice were too shocked to say a word.

"I was looking for you," Spike mumbled, looking confused again.

"Is everything okay, Spike?" Dawn asked.

"There's something happening," he told her. "Something about to open. I wanted to make sure it wasn't you." He looked her up and down and nodded. "Nope. You're safe. I can go now."

Dawn caught his arm as he turned away. "What do you mean, something's about to open?" she demanded.

"You're the Key, aren't you?" he replied. "You open things. Except not this thing. So it's all right."

"No, it's not all right!" she exclaimed, becoming nervous. "I have to go tell Buffy!" She jumped to her feet and dragged him through the crowd, forgetting all about her friends.

Once they were outside, Spike ground to a halt. "Can't go with you," he said. "Don't fancy being dust. 'Sides, I'm still crazy. Slayer won't like that."

"Can you get home all right?" Dawn asked in concern. He shrugged one shoulder.

"It's a short trip. Though I might take the short cut through hell. Oh, wait a second, already been there." He gently removed Dawn's hand from his arm. "Run tell big sister something's brewing. There's sure to be tears."

*****

Buffy balanced the large bowl of popcorn and two hot chocolates long enough to get to the sofa. "You could have helped," she told her husband, who was lounging on the sofa. He looked up at her with the puppy-dog expression she was rapidly getting used to.

"But I was so comfortable," he said.

"Move," Buffy ordered heartlessly, poking him in the ribs. Angel gave a funny squeak and flinched away. Buffy stared at him, her mouth open. "Oh, my God. Angel, are you ticklish?"

"What? No!"

She reached out and poked him again, getting the same results. "We've known each other for over five years! How could I not know you're ticklish?" Ignoring his protests, she pounced on him, digging her fingers into his sides. He writhed away from her, giggling like a kid.

"Stop! Stop! I give up!" he gasped, holding her back. "Yes, I'm ticklish!"

"Were you ticklish as a vampire?" Buffy demanded, letting him fend her off—for now. Angel snorted.

"I don't know. I didn't exactly let people tickle me when I was a vampire, Buffy."

"That is so funny," she said with an evil grin. Her hand darted out and Angel squealed, rolling off the couch in an attempt to get away from her.

"Look, can we just watch the damn movie?" he asked plaintively from the floor.

"I don't think so," Buffy said. "I haven't lost interest in this tickling thing, yet."

Behind her, something flew in through the bay window with the sound of breaking glass. On instinct, Buffy reached out and snatched the object in mid-air, her hand closing around cold metal. She blinked at it in confusion.

"Buffy, no, bad!" Angel sputtered, and then it exploded.

Buffy's world erupted in blinding light and deafening noise. Her hand burned with intense pain and she felt her head impact with the window, shattering it. Blurred shapes and vague noises passed over her, but all she could hear was a loud ringing and the throb of her heartbeat.

Angel was partially sheltered from the flash-bang, and managed to get to his feet after the explosion. He staggered and fell bodily against one of the black-clad intruders, who pushed him away. Angel shook his head to clear it and saw two figures make their way upstairs.

"No!" he roared, lunging toward them. One swung around and with a gesture of contempt, fired his weapon. Angel collapsed and lay unmoving.

The world began to resolve itself for Buffy until she could get to her feet without falling over. The first thing she saw as her vision cleared was Angel sprawled limply on the floor and her baby in the arms of a stranger. She had a half-second to make a choice, but she didn't hesitate.

She launched herself away from the couch, over her husband's body, and landed in front of the intruder carrying her daughter. Her first blow was deflected by the mask, so she brought her knee up to his groin. Then someone yanked her backwards by her hair.

A flash of red-black filled the living room, forming a giant, glowing ball of energy. One by one the attackers plunged through, including the one carrying Caddie. Buffy pushed herself up on her elbows and watched in horror as the portal shrank and disappeared. Then the world spiraled into blackness.


	5. Chapter 5

The two patients were a married couple, very young. The wife's younger sister, who was still hysterical in the waiting room and being comforted by several friends, had found them. An older gentlemen, perhaps the wife's father, asked after them at regular intervals.

Jamie checked the heart monitor on the husband, Angel Summers according to his charts. He had received a high-voltage jolt of electricity that had stopped his heart. A friend had managed to resuscitate him. As she reattached one of the sensors, she noticed the gunshot scar on his chest and her eyebrows shot up. This was one tough hombre. She looked over at the wife, Buffy, who was being treated for severe burns on her right hand and a concussion. They had yet to regain consciousness.

She picked up a saline pouch and prepared to change the bags. A hand suddenly clamped onto her wrist and she stifled a scream. Mr. Summers was staring up at her with cold, dark eyes. "Where am I?" he demanded.

"S-sunnydale Regional Hospital," Jamie stammered. He frowned.

"I can't be here. There isn't time for this. I have to…" He trailed off and sat up, detangling himself from the sensors. When he went for the IV, Jamie tried to intervene.

"No, sir, you can't do that."

He swept her aside easily and yanked the needle out. "Clothes. Where are my clothes?"

Jamie hit the assistance button. "Sir, please calm down and get back into the bed. You're not well."

"Where are my clothes?" he demanded again, looming threateningly over her. She pointed wordlessly.

Angel dressed quickly. As he pulled his shirt over his head, he caught sight of Buffy in the next bed. With a low cry, her hurried to her side. "Buffy? Beloved, can you hear me?" She remained limp and still, her expression serene. Angel pressed her hand to his cheek and closed his eyes. "I will find her, beloved. I promise I will bring her home." Then he kissed her forehead and stalked toward the waiting area.

Dawn leapt to her feet and flung herself into Angel's arms, sobbing so hard her body shook. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry. I should have been there. I'm so sorry."

"You couldn't have done anything," he replied gently. "You only would have gotten hurt." Then he gently set her away and turned to the others. "We have to get back to the house and see if anything was left behind. Some magical trace of who attacked us."

"Angel, are you sure it's a good idea for you to be up?" Cordelia asked hesitantly. "'Cause you were, like, dead an hour ago."

"Someone out there has my daughter," Angel said flatly. "And I'm getting her back. You either help me or get out of my way, because I will destroy anyone who tries to stop me."

Doyle didn't hesitate. "What do you want me to do?"

"Do you know anyone who might be able to figure out who took Caddie?" Angel asked. "Anyone from the supernatural?"

"Lorne," Doyle said almost instantly. "He runs a karaoke bar in LA but he can read people's futures."

Angel nodded and turned on the pair of witches. "You go over the house with every spell you can think of. Oz, try to pick up the scent and figure out where they came from. Giles, I want to know everything about the prophecy about Caddie. It may let us know why someone wants her. And stay with Buffy in case she wakes up." He turned back to Doyle. "We're going to LA. You're driving."

*****

It was called "Caritas" and it was filled with the widest variety of demons that Angel had ever seen peacefully in one place.

"There's a spell on the place," Doyle explained. "Keeps violence from happening inside the building."

Angel grunted, not really caring. "Where's Lorne?"

"Over there. Green with the red horns." Doyle pointed and began leading the way through the crowd. When he tapped the demon on the shoulder, the creature spun around and grinned.

"Doyle! My man! I haven't seen you in here for ages! I was beginning to think you don't love me anymore. How's life? How are the visions? Huh? Huh?"

Doyle smiled tightly. "I moved out of LA, yes I still love you, life's interesting, and the visions are a pain in the ass. We need your help."

Lorne's face fell comically. "I should have figured as much. No one ever stops by for just a drink. Whoa! Hey! What's with tall, dark, and broody here?" He eyed Angel up and down. "Don't tell me this is the warrior you were assigned to, Francis."

"Don't call me that, and yes, he is. Lorne, this is Angel. He used to be a vampire."

"You know, that's not something that you need to just tell everyone we meet," Angel said acidly. "That's kind of personal."

"Don't worry, I can keep secrets," Lorne assured him. "So, what's your problem?"

"Someone broke into my home, kidnapped my daughter, and put my wife in a coma," Angel said flatly. "Doyle says you can help me find Caddie."

Lorne's face grew deadly serious. "My deepest condolences. I'll do everything I can. I just need you to do one thing for me, first."

Angel raised an eyebrow cynically. "And what's that?"

"Sing," Lorne replied.

Angel glared at Doyle. "You didn't say anything about singing, _Francis_," he spat. Doyle shrugged unhappily.

"That's the way it works, mate. You sing, and he reads your future."

"Caddie is in danger and you want me to _sing_?"

"I know you're not in the mood," Lorne broke in smoothly. "But I'm afraid that's the only way I can read you. Trust me, I'm not doing it to torture you. Come with me, I have a private room where we can talk." The green-skinned demon led them through the bar into a small, windowless room that had obviously been soundproofed. He and Doyle seated themselves and Lorne looked over at Angel. "Whenever you're ready."

Angel stood for a moment, his mind racing. Finally, he shook his head and cleared his throat. The first thing he thought of was an old Irish lullaby he had sung for Caddie the last time he had seen her. His voice couldn't be considered good, and some of the high notes were strained, but he kept the tune. As soon as he was done, Lorne whipped a notepad from his jacket and began scribbling furiously.

"As soon as you get home, ask the witches what they've found. It's important. Your girl's been taken to another dimension, and her mother went along for the ride. Not her body, just her soul. The key is at hand. Black and blue. There's something important about black and blue." He handed two pages of cramped handwriting to Angel, but when the former vampire examined it, it was indecipherable. "Your witches will know what to do with it," Lorne explained.

Angel nodded, and then extended his hand towards Lorne. "Thank you."

Lorne shook it warmly. "I hope I've helped. When you get the girls back, come visit me."

*****

Willow scanned the pages of runic symbols with greedy fascination. "It's a spell to open an interdimensional portal," she told the others. "Only…It only works if you know where you're going and you have the portal. Are you sure this is everything?"

"Of course I'm sure," Angel snapped. "That's supposed to be important somehow." He jabbed a finger at the strange medallion they had found in the living room.

"Wait a second," Cordelia said. "Look! The symbols on the talisman thingy are the same as those," she said, holding the medallion out for Willow to compare.

"You're right." Willow mused.

"What does that mean?" Oz asked. The scent trail had lead down the street to an abandoned van, but there were no license plates for them to track.

"I'm not sure yet. If this came from the dimension Caddie was taken to, we can use it as a reference to open the portal," Willow replied.

"I'll take the chance," Angel said quickly. "What else did Lorne say, Doyle?"

"Black and blue and…um, something about the key being at hand."

"Oh!" Dawn gasped, her eyes round. "Me! Me, I'm the portal! I-I open portals to different dimensions!"

"Good. We've got everything. Now what do we do?" Angel demanded.

Willow looked uneasy. "I'm not sure about this. The Council said that Dawn could potential destroy the universe if the Key fell into the wrong hands."

"Willow, this it the only way to get Caddie back," Angel said dangerously. "We're going to try it, universe be damned."

The witch hesitated for a moment longer. Then she clutched the papers tightly. "Okay. Uh, I guess the basement? There's more room there."

The group filed down the stairs and stood in a circle on the cement floor. "Now what?" Angel asked. Willow consulted the papers and handed Dawn the medallion.

"Hold this," she instructed. "Does anyone have a knife?"

"Here," Doyle held out a pocketknife. Dawn, guessing what needed to be done, took it from him and slashed it across her palm.

"Put some on the medallion," Willow said. Then she stood opposite Dawn, glanced down at the papers, and began to chant. The words that spilled from her mouth were twisted and garbled, unlike any human language. Willow's voice grew in volume as her eyes clouded black. An ethereal light glowed around her and Dawn, causing the others to step back. Suddenly Dawn threw her head back and screamed. Her body appeared consumed by crackling blue energy.

"Dawnie!" Cordelia cried, and stepped forward. Angel caught her arm and pulled her away. Dawn screamed again and vanished in a flash of light. In her place was a smooth, silver disk with lightening arcing across its surface.

"I'm going," Angel said. "Who's coming with me?" With that, he stepped into the portal.

His next step was on hard, uneven stone, and he blinked in the red light and dusty wind. He looked behind him to see the portal and Doyle stepping through. After a few seconds, Oz appeared. Angel nodded in satisfaction. He looked around at the forbidding landscape. Shattered rock was far as the eye could see. The sky was red and black clouds roiled on the horizon.

"Lovely," Doyle muttered. "Any idea where to start looking?"

"Not really," Angel replied. He shielded his eyes from the sun and scanned the area around them.

"Angel!" All three men turned toward the cry. A slim, blonde woman ran towards them, skidding to a halt to avoid crashing into Angel.

"Buffy?" Angel asked in disbelief. He moved to embrace her but she stepped back.

"You can't touch me," she said sadly. "I don't actually exist."

"What do you mean?" he demanded. She reached up and passed her fingers right through his face. "Oh. Are you all right, though?"

"As fine as I can be." She stared at him with tears in her eyes. "I've missed you so much, Angel. What took you so long?"

"It's only been a day, beloved," he replied. "I came as soon as I could."

Buffy pressed a hand to her mouth, the tears overflowing. "A day?" she echoed. "That's impossible."

"Time moves differently in separate dimensions," Doyle said, looking very anxious. Angel stared intently at his wife.

"How long?" he demanded. "How long has it been?"

She swallowed hard. "Twelve years," she whispered finally. "It's been twelve years."


	6. Chapter 6

Angel stared at her in horror. "Twelve years?" he finally managed to say. Buffy nodded, reaching up to wipe the tears from her eyes.

"I didn't know why you never came," she said softly. "Now…now I know. Oh, God. One day." She rubbed her face wearily and looked up. "Doyle. Oz. It's good to see you both. The others, they're all okay?"

"Everyone's fine," Angel assured her.

"How—how did you get here?"

"Willow was able to open a portal with Dawn's help," Doyle explained. Buffy frowned.

"Dawnie?" Buffy asked, and then held up a hand. "It doesn't matter. What matters is getting back out of here. Come on, the fortress isn't far away."

"Excuse me, fortress?" Oz asked.

Buffy nodded. "It's where the others live. There aren't many inhabitable places in Revona." She turned and started walking. The three men hurried to catch up.

"Twelve years," Angel said again. "That means Caddie—"

"Is almost thirteen," Buffy confirmed. Angel squeezed his eyes shut.

"What happened?" he asked. "Who took Caddie? How did you end up like this? You—you're body, it's in Sunnydale. You're in the hospital."

"I am?" Buffy asked, her face showing confusion. Then she shook her head. "We can figure it out later. Remember that law firm in LA? Wolfram & Hart? Well, they found the prophecy about Caddie and decided to get their hands on her. It isn't the first time they've kidnapped children with power like this, either."

"What are the defenses?" Oz asked. "How hard is it going to be to get Caddie back?"

"I don't think they noticed the portal opening," Buffy told them. "The only reason I did was because I can sense energy in this form. I don't know why. But I don't think they'll expect an attack." She scrambled over an outcropping and pointed. "There."

Angel stood beside her and she leaned toward him. He reminded himself it had been twelve years for her. Twelve years alone in a hostile dimension, unable to do anything but watch as strangers raised their daughter. He shuddered. It must have been hell.

It really did look like a fortress. A big, gray, forbidding structure that sat by itself on a plain of smooth, volcanic rock. "There's a service entrance on the side. We found it a few years ago," Buffy said. "I don't have to worry about doors or anything, but I seriously doubt you can walk through walls."

"You can?" Oz asked, looking impressed. "Sweet."

Buffy flashed him a smile. "It comes in handy." When they reached the outer wall, she showed them the door and then walked straight through the wall. She was waiting for them on the other side. "We need to be quiet," she said softly. "The servants use these hallways."

"Are these servants…human?" Doyle asked. Buffy shook her head.

"The only humans here are Caddie and me."

"Lovely," Angel muttered.

She led them to an old-fashioned sitting room. "Caddie's in one of her 'tutoring' sessions right now," she explained. "It'll be an hour or so. We should be safe here."

"How have you managed to stay hidden for twelve years?" Angel asked.

Buffy shrugged. "I'm basically a ghost. I can even disappear if I have to. It kind of itches, though, so I stay visible as much as possible."

"Oh." Angel paced back and forth. He had come expecting to fight his way through to wherever his daughter was being kept. Waiting in a well-decorated living room wasn't what he had in mind. "What's she like?" he asked suddenly.

Buffy smiled sadly. "She's beautiful. And smart. Like, Willow kind of smart."

"Is it bad here?" Doyle asked.

"Bad?" Buffy seemed to consider the question. "This place is run by an evil law firm that raises children to do their dirty work. Yeah, it's bad. But not cruel."

The door opened suddenly and everyone shot to their feet. A girl stood in the doorway, fourteen or fifteen years old. She was slim and dressed completely in black. Her skin was pale and translucent. Her black hair was cut in short, uneven layers to her chin and her large eyes were luminescent blue.

Without warning, she snatched a knife out of nowhere and lunged toward Doyle.

"Micah, no!" Buffy yelled. The girl whirled away from Doyle at the last moment, her knife grazing the half-demon's arm.

"Dammit!" Doyle shouted, pressing his hand to the wound. "What the hell?"

"Who are they, Mother?" the girl demanded. "What are they doing here?"

"Mother?" Angel echoed. "Why is she calling you that?"

"Everybody shut up!" Buffy said sharply. When all eyes were on her, she looked over at the girl. "This is Micah. She's a Fey. Wolfram & Hart kidnapped her around the same time they took Caddie. Micah, this is Angel, Doyle and Oz. I told you about them, remember?"

Micah fixed her pale, strange eyes on Angel. "You are the father?" she asked curiously.

"Um…" Angel looked to Buffy for help.

"Yes, he's the father," Buffy told Micah. The girl slid the knife back into her belt and turned to Doyle.

"I apologize for harming you. I mistook you for an enemy."

"Understandable," Doyle grunted. His demon physiology had already stopped the bleeding, but the cut still stung like hell.

"Mother had hoped you would come sooner," Micah told Angel rather bluntly. "Why didn't you?"

The simple question pierced Angel's heart like a sword. "We came as soon as we could," he said tightly. "Only a day passed in our dimension." He turned to Buffy. "Why is she calling you 'Mother'?" he asked quietly.

Buffy only stared at him. "Because I practically raised her," she replied. "Micah, is Caddie nearly done?"

"I saw Parhon go into his study, so she must be on her way here," the Fey replied.

"Mother?" a timid voice asked from the doorway. Again, everyone swiveled around to stare. She was absolutely tiny, though not in the malnourished way. Her hair and eyes were matching shades of dark chocolate, but her features were pure reflections of Buffy. Angel stood rooted to the spot, unable to think or speak. Buffy smiled and held out her hands toward the girl.

"It's all right, Caddie," she told the girl. "They're friends. They've come to take us home."


	7. Chapter 7

The girl looked from Buffy around at the others until her eyes locked with Angel's. She gave a little gasp and her eyes widened. "Father?" she whispered. She took a step forward.

"Are you my father?" she asked in a louder voice.

Angel nodded. "Caddie," he forced from a closed throat and numbed lips. "Oh God, Caddie."

She took another step, and then another until she was standing in front of him. He could smell her, clean and fresh, like sunshine and rosemary. Then she wrapped her arms around his waist in a gentle, hesitant hug. She felt fragile in his embrace, a precious thing to be protected at all costs.

After a moment, Caddie pulled away and retreated to Micah's side. The taller girl put her arm possessively around Caddie's shoulders. "They are going to take us away?" Caddie asked Buffy.

"Yes. We're going back where we belong," Buffy replied.

"Not me," Micah said, her expression unreadable.

"You belong with us, Mic," Buffy said firmly. "I promised I wouldn't leave you behind, remember?"

"Well, since we're all here, let's get the heck out of Dodge," Doyle suggested. Buffy nodded in agreement.

"Will the portal still be open?" she asked.

"Willow said they'd keep it open as long as they could," Angel said, heading for the door. He poked his head out and gestured to the others. "We're clear. Let's get out of here before anyone notices we're gone."

"That will be easy," Micah said. "Unless we are being tutored, we are ignored."

"Tutored in what?" Oz asked.

"How to kill," Micah replied, brushing past Angel into the hallway.

Buffy grimaced. "Micah is already an accomplished assassin and she's only fourteen," she told the others. "It's a Fey thing."

"Mother, why do we have to go?" Caddie whispered, hovering at Buffy's side. Buffy knelt to look her daughter in the face.

"Honey, you remember what I told you? How they're going to use you to do bad things?"

Caddie nodded. "But I'm frightened. I don't want to go."

Buffy reached up and tried to caress the girl's cheek, but her fingers passed through Caddie's face. "You just have to trust me, okay, sweetie?"

"Someone's coming," Oz suddenly hissed, morphing into partial-wolf mode on instinct. Sure enough, a livery-clad demon rounded the corner and ground to a halt at the sight of the intruders. The demon blinked in surprise and opened its mouth to yell, but Oz got there first. He bounded across the distance separating them and slashed his claws across the demon's throat. Blood sprayed across the front of Oz's shirt as the demon crumpled to the ground.

Angel helped Oz conceal the body. When they returned to the others, Micah was watching them with morbid approval and Caddie shrank against her foster sister's side, looking ill.

"This way," Buffy said, gesturing.

"You aren't human, are you?" Caddie asked suddenly, staring up at Doyle. He smiled down at the tiny child.

"Not completely," he told her. "Just on my mother's side. Does that bother you?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "It just makes you smell funny."

"We're almost there," Buffy said over her shoulder. The door in front of her was slammed open, passing right through her, and three large, imposing demons crashed through.

"Micah!" Buffy yelled. "Get Caddie!"

The Fey child sprang into action, grabbing the younger girl into her arms and dodging through the struggle through the door. She deposited her foster sister in a corner. "Stay here," she instructed, and unsheathed her knife.

She hovered at the edge of the fray, observing the rhythms of the battle. The werewolf and the Father both held their own, but the half-demon seemed to be struggling with his opponent. Micah hefted her knife and darted in. Her target sensed her coming and backhanded her, knocking the slim girl off her feet.

"Micah, stay out of this," Buffy said, appearing next to her. "You'll get hurt."

"But I can help, Mother!" she insisted. Buffy shook her head.

"Protect your sister," Buffy ordered. Micah nodded and retreated through the door. Caddie hid her face in her hands. She hated the sight of blood. The werewolf slammed his opponent against the wall, pinning its arms at its side. Then he buried his teeth in the creature's jugular, ripping its throat out in a spray of dark blood. The Father snapped his enemy's neck cleanly, and the half-demon managed to choke the last demon to death.

"Anything else coming?" Doyle asked, panting. Both Angel and Oz sniffed the air.

"I can't smell anything except blood," Angel complained. Oz, still wolfed out, turned his head to one side and spat to clear his mouth.

"Sorry," he offered.

They stepped through the door and went to the waiting girls. Caddie stared at Oz in horror and shrank away. Then her nostrils widened and the blood drained from her face. She retched so hard she began to cry. Micah patted the other girl's back while Buffy hovered, visibly irritated she couldn't comfort Caddie more.

"It's the smell of blood," she explained. "It makes her sick."

"Sorry," Oz muttered again, hurrying to get downwind.

"Someone had to have heard that," Doyle said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "Let's get a move on before anyone comes to investigate."

Caddie tried to get to her feet but wobbled dangerously. Angel reached out on instinct to steady her. He hesitated, and then asked, "May I carry you?" She looked up at him with brown eyes identical to his own and nodded timidly. He scooped her gently up and she wrapped her slender arms around his neck. Tears started in his eyes when he realized that the last time he had held his daughter, she had been an infant.

Buffy hesitated when they reached the service door. "This is too easy," she said. "Something feels wrong."

"Well, we're not sticking around to figure it out," Doyle said firmly, pushing the door open. "Oh, crap."

Standing right outside the door was the biggest, ugliest demon Buffy had seen in years. It had knobbly, gray-green skin and orange eyes under prominent brow-ridges. Great, curling ram's horns framed the sides of its face, and spikes protruded from its chin and shoulders.

"I do not allow trespassers in my home," it boomed, glaring at them. "Release the children and I will allow your deaths to be merciful."

"Fuck you, Parhon," Buffy spat, quivering with rage. "You've held my daughters captive long enough."

"I agree with the woman," Oz said cheerfully, and lunged for the demon's throat. It moved aside with blinding speed, and Oz skidded to a halt several feet away. Angel shoved Caddie into Doyle's arms and struck out at the demon. It blocked him easily and brushed him aside. He landed hard on his back and rolled to his feet.

"Father! Catch!" Angel snatched the knife Micah threw him and face off against the demon. Oz circled the other side. The demon surveyed them with disdain. Oz and Angel attacked at the same time. Parhon managed to deflect most of their blows, but when they pulled away, the demon was bleeding from several places. So were Angel and Oz.

Caddie suddenly began to struggle. "Put me down, I can do this," she said urgently. Doyle, confused, nevertheless did as she asked. She set her feet widely and lifted her hands, chewing on her lower lip. "I can do this, I can do this," she chanted. Her face grew still with intense concentration and then her hands began to glow.

It started with the fingertips and spread to her palms, flickering and guttering like a candle in the wind. Then a thin stream of light like sunshine burst from her hands and struck Parhon straight in the eyes. The demon bellowed and threw up his hand to block the light, but it had already sputtered out.

Angel didn't hesitate. He leapt forward, the knife swinging in a deadly arc. He buried it in the side of Parhon's neck and twisted to open the wound. The demon gurgled horribly and fell to its knees. Then it collapsed, its blood spilling out on the rock.

"Oh," Caddie squeaked, and fainted dead away. Doyle scooped the girl back up. Micah sidled up to Angel and looked up at him admiringly.

"That was well done," she said. He wiped the knife clean and handed it back to her.

"Thanks for the help."

"Let's go!" Buffy urged. "The portal, it's not far away!"

They took off at a run, Buffy leading. Micah surprised Angel by easily keeping up with them, moving with a graceful lope that closely resembled Oz's. The portal was right where they had left it, a shining silver disk humming with energy. Micah hesitated at the sight of it.

"Micah, it's going to be okay," Buffy assured her, guessing the source of the child's unease. "I promise we'll take care of you. I love you. Please trust me."

Micah hesitated a moment longer and then nodded. "I do," she said, and plunged through, Angel right behind her. Doyle fell against Angel, knocking him to the cement floor. He barely managed to catch Micah before she was crushed under their weight and then Oz landed on top of them, smearing blood onto their clothes.

Willow gasped in surprise as the portal snapped shut and Dawn slumped to the ground, breathing heavily. "Oh my Goddess," Willow exclaimed.

Cordy was much more efficient. "Doyle!" she called. "What happened? Are you okay? Did you get her back?"

Micah leapt to her feet, her knife in one hand. "What is this place?" she demanded. "Who are you? Where is Mother?"

Angel cradled Caddie in his lap. His head snapped up at Micah's question. "Where's Buffy?" he asked sharply. Everyone froze and looked around. Buffy was nowhere to be seen.


	8. Chapter 8

Buffy sat up with a gasp. Beside her Giles gave a small shriek and the book he had been reading went flying. "Buffy!" he exclaimed. "Dear lord!"

"Giles!" Buffy lunged from the bed and threw her arms around her Watcher. Confused, he nevertheless embraced her back. "Oh, my god, I've missed you so much," she said, tears starting in her eyes.

"Um, lovely to see you too," Giles said uncertainly. "Are you sure you're feeling all right?"

"I'm fine," she said, releasing him. "I'm really fine. Ow!" She winced and rubbed the back of her head. "Why does my head hurt?"

"You—ah—hit it yesterday. Quite a blow. Broke the window."

Buffy blinked at him. "Yesterday… Oh!" She climbed out of the hospital bed and began pulling on her clothes. "We have to get back to the house. Now!"

"Buffy, are you certain that's a good idea? You've been unconscious for over a day."

"I have to get back," she said firmly. "Micah and Caddie will be freaking out. This is all new to them and they don't know anyone."

"What are you talking about?" Giles asked plaintively as he trailed behind her.

"Angel finally made it to Revona," Buffy said distractedly. "He managed to bring us back except it's been twelve years for us and only a day for you and the girls are going to be so scared." She completely ignored Giles' confused stuttering and the nurses' protests on her way out of the hospital. She seemed ready to walk home if she had to when Giles caught her arm.

"My car is this way," he said, accepting defeat. She stared at him for a heartbeat.

"Oh, right," she said. "Cars. So we don't have to walk. This is going to take some getting used to."

She barely spoke during the drive except to urge Giles to drive faster. She had thrown open the door even before the car stopped moving and threw open the front door, yelling, "Caddie! Micah! Angel!"

Caddie burst out from the kitchen and skidded to a halt in front of her mother. Buffy wrapped the girl in as tight a hug as she could humanly manage. Micah appeared not far behind and was included in the embrace. Buffy was crying as she set the girls back, touching their faces, their hair, for the first time in twelve years.

Giles edged around the three of them and leaned in to whisper to Doyle. "What is going on?"

"Apparently twelve years passed in the dimension they were in," he whispered back. Giles started in alarm.

"So that means…" he trailed off, pointing at the girls.

"The little one is Caddie. Buffy sort of adopted the other one."

Buffy pulled herself away from her girls and walked over to Angel. She grabbed his face in both hands and pulled him down for a kiss. When they finally broke apart, she hugged Doyle tightly. Oz was absent, gone to wash the blood away. Cordelia got a hug, too.

"Where's Dawn?" Buffy asked. "And Willow?"

"In here," Cordelia led the way to the living room. Willow sat next to the couch on which Dawn was stretched. The teenager was pale and still, her eyes flickering beneath the lids.

"What happened?" Buffy demanded, dropping to her knees beside her sister.

"She opened a portal to the place where you were," Willow explained. "I think it took a lot out of her."

Buffy placed her hand on Dawn's forehead. "Dawn? Can you hear me? Dawn? Dawnie?"

Dawn's eyes fluttered open and she focused on Buffy's face. "Buffy," she whispered. "You're back. So many places. I saw them. Saw everything. Thousands and thousands of doorways all connecting and going into each other and Spike was there. He held my hand and said it was going to be okay."

"He was right," Buffy said with a smile. "Everything's going to be okay."

*****

Micah and Caddie peered up at Buffy from under the covers of Buffy's old bed. Both girls were so exhausted they could barely keep their eyes open but they were too nervous to sleep.

"What is going to be like here?" Caddie asked. "Will we be safe?"

"I don't know," Buffy said honestly. "But we're not going to let anything happen to you. You have me and your father to take care of you, all right?"

"He isn't my father," Micah pointed out bluntly. "My father's dead. Wolfram & Hart killed him."

"Angel can be your new father if you let him," Buffy told her. "You're part of our family now, Micah."

"I'm afraid," Caddie said, cuddling closer to her mother. Buffy stroked her hair.

"I know. So am I. It's going to take a lot of getting used to. For all three of us. But we'll be together, and that's what's important, okay? Get some sleep. We've got lots to do in the morning."

"Will you stay?" Micah asked. She looked sheepish. "Until we fall asleep? It's…different here."

"I'm not going anywhere," Buffy said with a smile. She sat on the edge of the bed and held their hands until their eyes closed and their breathing evened out. Angel watched from the doorway. When he was sure they were asleep, he ventured in to stand by the bed.

"Are they going to make it?" he asked softly.

"They're strong girls," she replied. Angel put his hand on his wife's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, beloved," he said quietly. "I should have kept this from ever happening."

She sighed heavily. "Twelve years is a long time, Angel. I didn't know what you were doing or why you never came. I almost gave up hope you ever would. I spent twelve years alone, unable to touch my children, unable to interact with anything physical." She looked up, her hazel-green eyes haunted. "I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to get over that."

Angel stepped backwards, feeling as if he had been slapped. "I'm sorry," he said again, and turned to leave. He heard the bed creak as Buffy got up and she grabbed his arm.

"Come here," she instructed, and led him into their bedroom. She turned to face him. "Twelve years without touching anything," she said in an odd tone.

She gave him a little push until he sat down on the bed and she settled on his lap. Very gently, she brushed her lips against his forehead and across each cheekbone as if relearning his features. She touched her lips against his, first lightly, and then more passionately.

"Touch me," she begged him, taking his face in her hands. "Make me feel again. Oh God, Angel, I missed you so much!"

Suddenly it felt as if there was too much separating them and they couldn't be rid of their clothing fast enough. But even when it was skin against bare skin and they held each other in their arms, there was a barrier that couldn't be torn down in a single night. For Buffy, it had been the first time her husband had made love to her in twelve years. She had almost forgotten the taste and feel of him, the way he moved and breathed. He hadn't changed, just her. She had twelve years that he would never be able to share. He would never witness their child growing up. It would always stand between them.

When Buffy cried, Angel kissed away the tears and hoped he wasn't the cause.


	9. Chapter 9

Buffy woke up sometime around sunrise and didn't dare open her eyes. She could feel Angel's body half underneath her, their legs tangled together. She could hear his heart beating beneath her cheek. His breath stirred her hair gently.

"Please tell me this is real," she said softly. "That this isn't a dream."

"You're not dreaming," he said. "It's real."

Her eyes flew open and she twisted to look at Angel. After a moment of simply staring at him, she leaned down to kiss him, her tongue relearning the shape of his mouth. "I was afraid I was going to wake up back in Revona," she said.

He traced his finger along her jaw. "No, you're right here next to me in our bed in our home. Caddie and Micah are in the next room over. Everyone's safe."

She tucked her head under his chin, throwing on arm over his chest and snuggling as close to him as possible. "I didn't sleep, you know. Over there."

"Not ever?" Angel asked with a frown.

"I couldn't. But I'd dream. I used to dream about you and how you'd come to rescue us. I tried to find ways to escape, but there wasn't much I could do when the girls were younger and even as they grew up, I was ghost-y and go-through-y. Not much good for a break out."

"It's going to be hard, isn't it?" he asked softly. "To make things work now."

She sighed and pressed her face against his neck. "Yeah," she admitted. "It's going to be hard."

"But we both want it, right?"

She sighed again and said nothing for a long time. "That's all I've ever wanted, Angel," she said finally. She rolled away from him and slipped out of bed. "I better check on the girls," she said, pulling on a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. She slipped out into the hallway and into the old nursery.

Caddie had taken over the bed. She was sprawled out, tangled with the blankets, one foot hanging over the side. Micah was curled up on the floor with a pillow and a blanket. As Buffy crouched next to her, the Fey's unhuman eyes snapped open.

"What is it, Mother?" she asked softly.

"Nothing. Just making sure you're okay."

Micah sat up, running a long-fingered hand through her short, black hair. "I'm fine." She looked around. "It's very strange here."

"I know. Are you going to go back to sleep?"

"I'm not tired anymore." Micah rolled to her feet gracefully, and Buffy realized she was still wearing the clothes she had brought from Revona.

"Come on. We need to get you something to wear. Are you hungry?"

"Not…seriously," Micah said. Buffy nodded gratefully. A hungry Fey was the last thing she needed right now. As they went back into the hall, Angel appeared out of Dawn's room.

"How is she?" Buffy asked.

"Still sleeping." He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't even think about how it would affect her when I told Willow to open the portal. I should have known it would be hard on her."

"It got us back," Buffy said flatly. "It was worth it. Could you start fixing breakfast? I'm going to see if I can find some of Dawn's old clothes for Micah and Caddie."

"Sure." Angel looked down at the Fey. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, I did, thank you," she replied. He hesitated, and then asked, "I had hoped that perhaps you would continue my combat training. I saw what you did in Revona and you are very good."

Angel smiled a little uncertainly. "Yeah. Sure, we could do that."

Micah smiled suddenly, revealing sharp, white teeth and long canines. "Thank you."

Buffy got Micah dressed and then Caddie woke up and they dug up some clothes for her and finally they all made it to the kitchen where Angel had set out plates of eggs, bacon, pancakes, fruit (but no yogurt), and toast on the island.

"I, uh, didn't know what they liked," he said when Buffy surveyed the offering with amusement. The two girls proceeded to devour everything in sight, impressing Angel with the sheer amount of food they put away. Angel approached Buffy where she stood to one side with a plate of mixed fruit.

"You should eat something," he said. He held a strawberry to her lips. She blinked in surprise and opened her mouth. Her eyes widened in shock at the taste of the fruit and Angel remembered she hadn't eaten in twelve years.

The phone rang and Buffy jumped as both girls flinched. "It's okay," Angel assured them. "It's just the phone." He picked it up and tucked it under his chin. "Hello?"

"Angel, ah, hello. I didn't actually expect anyone to be up so early."

"Hi, Giles. Is there something I can do for you?"

"I was simply wondering how everyone was doing."

"The girls are just finishing up breakfast. Dawn's still sleeping."

"I did some research on Feys last night and I thought you might want to know what I found out. Would I be able to come by this afternoon?"

"Yeah, that's fine. We'll see you then." He hung up and looked around. "Buffy, where's Caddie?"

Buffy spun around in alarm and saw the back door open. "Caddie!" she called sharply, running out onto the deck. Caddie stood in the middle of the yard, staring up into the sky. Buffy hurried toward her, Angel on her heels. "Caddie, what are you doing?"

"The sun is a different color here," she said dreamily. "I like it. It makes me feel warm inside."

*****

Giles stood on the deck beside Angel, looking across the lawn to where Buffy sat on the grass with Caddie and Micah, deep in an explanation of some sort. Angel felt shut out, cut off from their lives. He sighed. After twelve years, he could just expect them to accept him.

"What did you find out?" he asked Giles.

"Well, Feys are a very old race," Giles began. "They were created by a group of powerful sorcerers who sought to use them as tools for their own ends."

"What happened?"

"The Feys destroyed them for having no honor. Ever since, they have made it their personal mission to seek out those with no honor and, well, kill them. They are very dangerous and somewhat unpredictable. Wolfram & Hart were no doubt seeking to harness the Fey's formidable skills."

"They wanted to use her as an assassin," Angel told him.

"Not surprising." Giles mused silently for a few minutes. "There's a few more things you'll need to know. Feys were created by infusing humans with the essences of several demons, not unlike how the first Slayer was made. She's going to need careful maintenance."

"Such as?" Angel asked.

"Such as several pounds of raw, bloody meat once a month. She's cold-blooded, so she'll need a lot of warmth, sunbathing and such. Oh, and once she reaches maturity, she'll go into heat about three times a year."

Angel stared at Giles. "Please tell me that was a joke," he said.

Giles took off his glasses and polished them on his shirt. "I'm afraid not. Feys apparently have a very strong drive to reproduce, probably the result of there being so few of them." He smiled suddenly. "You'll be beating boys off with a stick."

"Just fantastic," Angel muttered. He sighed. "At least Caddie still has some growing up to do."

The girl in question suddenly stood up and walked toward the two men. She approached Angel shyly, and he dropped to one knee to get eye-level. Without speaking, she held up her cupped hands. When she opened them, a small, yellow butterfly sat on her palm. Caddie looked from the insect to her father almost apprehensively.

"It's very pretty, isn't it?" Angel asked gently. Caddie broke out into a brilliant smile.

"I've never seen anything like it before," she said. "What is it called?"

"It's a butterfly," Angel told her. "There are lots of them in California."

"I like it," Caddie said shyly. Angel smiled.

"If you like butterflies, wait until tonight and the fireflies come out."


	10. Chapter 10

Dawn jumped the last few rungs of the ladder to the floor of Spike's crypt. It had taken her hours to convince Buffy and Angel that she was okay. She had waited until they were fully occupied with Caddie and Micah before slipping away. She had remembered to swing by the butchers to pick up the vampire's meals.

"Spike?" she called. "You still here?"

"Something wrong, pet?"

Dawn spun around, clutching the paper bag to her chest. Spike stood a few feet away, looking better than he had in a long time. "I brought you dinner," she said, holding the bag out to him. He took it but made no indication he was going to eat.

"There's something bothering the little bit," he said, tilting his head. "She went and turned into a doorway and didn't turn all the way back."

"It feels weird," Dawn admitted. "I feel…in between. Like I'm not all here. But I can't tell Buffy or Angel because they'd freak out and they have enough to worry about with Caddie and Micah."

"So they brought the baby home, eh?" Spike turned away, putting the bag of blood on the coffee table and wandering across the room.

"Yeah. The thing is, they're all twelve years older than they're supposed to be."

"Time travels differently in different dimensions," Spike told her. "Who's Micah?"

"She's a Fey. Supposedly Buffy adopted her or something and raised her. She gives me the creeps."

"Fey, huh? Demon hunter. Dangerous. Wouldn't want to get on her bad side."

Dawn plopped down on the couch with a sigh. "Life really sucks sometimes," she muttered. Spike snorted and started laughing.

"_You're_ one to talk," he said, sounding more like a sob. Dawn jumped to her feet and hurried over.

"I'm sorry, Spike. What'd I say? What happened, you know, wherever you were?"

He laughed somewhat erratically. "Don't know what to do with a demon who saves the world. So you toss him into purgatory for a few centuries until all the bad's been burned away, and send him back, good as new." He shuddered and began to pace. "Only he's not new, he's broken and not what he was. Doesn't know what he is anymore, a demon or a man. Something both. Something neither. Got the spark now. Burning away and leaving a scar." He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair.

Dawn shook her head. She didn't understand Spike's ramblings and didn't really try to. She just wanted him to be better. But at least being with him was better than being alone.

*****

The next few days passed so quickly Angel could barely count them. Micah and Caddie were both frightened and fascinated by a world they had only heard about. Angel and Buffy did their best to try to help them adapt, but Dawn tended to disappear for long periods of time. At first Angel put it down to the fact she became a portal to a different dimension. Then he became concerned.

"I'm worried about Dawn," he told Buffy one night about a week after they had returned from Revona. She continued to brush her teeth, giving her husband a curious look. They hadn't had much time to talk about…things, and it was sometimes strained between them, but they both tried hard.

"She leaves in the morning and stays out all day," Angel continued. "I've called her friends, but they haven't seen her."

"Did you try asking her?" Buffy suggested, putting her toothbrush away.

"Yes, and she lied." Angel sat on the edge of their bed and watched Buffy change into her pajamas.

"And you know this how?" she challenged.

"I could smell it on her," he told her. She gave him a strange look.

"I'm not even going there." She crawled underneath the covers and curled up on her side facing him. "You could try stalking her. After all, you're good at lurking."

He lay back next to her. "Are you accusing me?"

"No. That's how we met," Buffy said, putting her head on his shoulder. "In all seriousness, if you're that worried, follow her. Willow and Oz are coming over tomorrow. They can help me watch the girls."

"Dawn will hate me if she catches me," he pointed out.

"Don't get caught," Buffy said simply.

*****

Buffy was right; Angel _was_ good at lurking. Dawn didn't even suspect she was being followed. Angel trailed her from their house through town to the butcher shop. He waited, slightly confused, until she re-emerged carrying a paper bag. That explained the mystery of her disappearing allowance. Angel scented the air. He could smell the blood from across the street and his stomach turned. Ever since he had been changed back to human, the smell of blood made him nauseated. He had had to learn to endure it.

When Dawn entered the cemetery, Angel grew concerned. What on earth was Dawn doing with blood in a graveyard? Thank heavens it was broad daylight or every vampire in the area would converge on the teenager.

And then they arrived at Spike's crypt. Angel's concern turned to suspicion. Dawn slipped inside, and after waiting a few minutes, Angel followed. He heard Dawn's voice coming from the lower level.

"You have to eat. You don't want to starve, do you?" There was a moment of silence, and then she said. "Stop it! I don't understand the crazy-talk, okay? Just eat something, please."

Angel silently descended the ladder and scanned the chamber quickly. Dawn stood with a bag of blood in her hand, offering it to a shadowy figure huddled in the corner.

"No," the figure said. "Blood is death. Something always has to die. Kill everything I touch. Don't want to hurt you."

"Dawn, get away from him," Angel said coldly. Dawn gasped and spun around, the bag slipping from her fingers and bursting on the floor.

"Angel, what are you doing here?" she asked nervously.

"I said, get away from him," he said again. Dawn moved guiltily to the side, offering Angel a clear view of the pathetic creature huddled against the stone wall. "Spike," Angel hissed. "Why aren't you dead?"

"I was," the resurrected vampire said almost indignantly, lifting ice-blue eyes to stare at his grand-sire. "I wanted to be. Make all this go away. They wouldn't let me rest. Wouldn't let me sleep. Sent me back. All burning and broken. Shoulda listened to you. You could have warned me. About the spark."

Angel scowled. "What the hell are you talking about, Spike?" he demanded harshly. "What's wrong with you?"

"Gave the spark back. It shows you things. All the blood. All the faces. Every last one I destroyed. How do I make it stop?" Spike pleaded, his expression desperate. "I can't stop it. They put it back and now all it does is burn."

Angel took a step backwards in shock. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," he breathed. "Your soul?"

Spike nodded slowly, a tear tracing a crystal trail down his pale cheek. Angel shook his head, still unable to believe it. "They gave you your goddamn soul back."


	11. Chapter 11

The Summers' household was in a state of controlled chaos.

Bridal magazines were strewn across the dining room table as Cordelia and Willow poured over catalogues. Angel and Doyle were attempting to assemble the bunk beds in the girls' room while Oz moved the old furniture out. Buffy was making sandwiches for lunch and Dawn was in the basement, trying to cajole Spike into eating something. Giles was in the living room with Caddie and Micah, lecturing them on demonology. The girls listened with avid interest, though Micah's questions tended to be "And how do you kill it?"

When the doorbell rang, no one noticed at first. It wasn't until the third ring that Giles realized someone was at the door. He excused himself from his pupils and opened the door.

A man around Giles' age, though a few inches shorter, stood on the doorstep, looking extremely uncomfortable. "Is this the Summers' residence?" he asked nervously.

"Yes," Giles replied. "How can I help you?"

"My name is Hank Summers," the man said. "Buffy and Dawn—I'm their father."

Giles's eyebrows shot up and he blinked at Mr. Summers for several moments. "Wait here," he said, and closed the door. "Buffy!" he called, crossing into the dining room. She emerged from the kitchen, a cutting knife in one hand.

"What is it, Giles?" she asked.

"Erm, it's your father," he said, removing his glasses. "He's at the door."

Buffy's mouth dropped open and Willow squeaked. Even Cordy looked shocked.

"No!" Buffy said finally. "He can't be here. Now is not good. Micah still attacks anyone she doesn't know and Caddie will freak and I have crazy Spike in my basement! Tell him to go away!"

Giles was taken aback. "Buffy, this is your father," he said. "He appears to be making an effort to repair your relationship. You could at least talk to him."

The Slayer hesitated for a long minute and sighed. "Fine," she said, putting the knife down on the dining room table. When she opened the front door, Hank was looking extremely confused.

"Buffy!" he said, trying to sound cheerful. "Wow. You look good."

"Hi, Dad," she said quietly. He hadn't seen her in two years. For her, though, it had been a lot longer. "What do you want?"

Hank blinked and looked away. "Can't I want to see how my girls are doing?" he asked.

"'Your girls' have been surviving without their mother," Buffy said acerbically. She crossed her arms. "You didn't even come to the funeral, Hank."

He still wouldn't meet Buffy's gaze. "I know, Buffy, and I'm sorry. It's just, there were…things I was dealing with. Issues."

She continued to glare at him, not saying a word. He sighed and gestured toward the door. "Can I come in?" he asked. She stepped aside, giving him room to move past her into the house. He looked around almost apprehensively. "Nice place," he said lamely.

"Thank you," she replied, even though she knew he only said it to fill the silence. Oz began to descend, lugging most of the crib with him. "Where are you taking that?" Buffy asked him.

"Basement," he told her. "Angel thinks you may need it again."

"He does, does he?" Buffy said, cocking an eyebrow. "I think you're going to need it before we do."

Oz colored slightly as he always did whenever anyone mentioned his upcoming wedding. They now only had three weeks to go. The werewolf paused upon noticing Hank. "We have a guest," he said neutrally.

"Oh, yeah." Buffy gestured toward Hank. "Oz, Hank, Hank, Oz." At Oz's questioning eyebrow, she sighed and elaborated, "He's my dad."

"Good to meet you, Hank," Oz said with his characteristic smile. "I'd shake hands but they're a little full."

"No, no, that's fine," Hank said hurriedly. "Good to meet you, too."

As Oz continued toward the basement, Buffy called after him, "Tell Dawn to come up here, please!" She turned and smiled tightly at Hank. "I guess you'd better meet the rest of the gang." She headed into the dining room. "This is Willow, Cordelia, and Giles. Doyle and Angel are still upstairs. Guys, this is my dad, Hank Summers."

"A pleasure," Giles said politely, shaking Hank's hand.

"Same here," Hank replied. He caught sight of the magazines. "Buffy? You getting married?"

Cordelia snorted, not bothering to hide her amused contempt. Buffy glared at her for a second.

"No, Hank. I've been married for five months. Those are Willow's."

Footsteps thudded on the stairs and Dawn appeared from the basement. She took one look at the visitor, burst into tears, and fled back the way she came. At that minute, Doyle and Angel walked into the dining room.

"I'm not sayin' never," Doyle protested. "I mean, sure I'd like to, but I don't think it would be for the best what with my background and all."

"Oh, come on, Doyle," Angel countered. "You know that's not it. Cordelia doesn't care that you're half…English," he finished lamely when he saw the stranger. "Um, hi?" He shot a questioning look at Buffy.

"This is Doyle, and my husband Angel," Buffy said. "Guys, this is my dad."

Angel resisted the urge to snarl at the man that had caused Buffy so much hurt, who had abandoned his children to survive the loss of their mother on their own. Doyle, ignorant of the past, cheerfully greeted Hank.

"I didn't mean to intrude on a party or anything," Hank said, looking around at the group. "I just wanted to stop in and say hi." He looked guilty. "I think I have some kissing up to do with Dawnie, though."

"Don't call her that," Buffy snapped. When everyone looked at her, she glared at Hank. "You don't get to call her that."

Hank ducked his head apologetically. "Right, sorry." He looked up at Buffy. "Could we, um, talk in private?"

Buffy nearly said no, but then she realized that the sooner she gave Hank what he wanted, the sooner he would get back out of her life. "Fine." She turned and walked back through the kitchen onto the back porch. She faced Hank and crossed her arms, waiting.

"Wow," he said at length. "A lot's happened in two years. You're married. Did my, uh, invitation get lost in the mail?"

"It was a small ceremony," Buffy replied sharply. "Private. Family and friends only."

He winced at the not-so-subtle barb but pressed on. "Looks like you have nice friends. That's…good."

"What do you want, Hank?" Buffy asked bluntly. "Why did you come here?"

"I got a job in Sunnydale," Hanks said with a sigh. "And I thought that maybe you, me, and Dawn could, I don't know, get to know each other again."


	12. Chapter 12

Spike was extremely confused when Dawn ran back down the basement stairs in tears and threw herself in Spike's arms. His protective instinct flared and he cradled the sobbing teenager gently.

"What is it, pet?" he demanded. "Who's gone and made you cry? I'll rip his eyeballs out."

"I-it's my d-dad!" she wailed. Spike blinked. Hadn't the wanker run off somewhere with his secretary or something?

"What about him?" he asked.

"He's here! Now! Upstairs."

"Oh," Spike replied. "And…you don't like that?"

"Of _course_ not! He, he _left_!" Dawn wiped her face on her sleeve. "We didn't hear anything from him. How am I supposed to talk to him?"

"Don't," Spike said with a shrug. "If you don't want to, there's no need to be giving yourself that heartache. Fathers aren't much good, anyway. Closest thing I ever had to a father was Angelus, and, well, you know how that turned out." He flinched suddenly and shuddered. "He's up to no good. He'll go taking what isn't his and leave broken pieces behind."

Dawn assumed he meant to say the last part in past tense. "What does he want, anyway? Dad, I mean."

"Wait til he leaves and ask the Slayer," Spike suggested, rubbing her back. "You don't have to see him if you don't want to, Nibblet. You can stay with ol' Spike until he's gone. Make sure William doesn't do anything naughty."

"You could always go upstairs and _eat_ him," Dawn mumbled darkly.

*****

"You're moving to Sunnydale?" Buffy repeated, staring at Hank.

"Yeah," he said awkwardly. "Is there something wrong?"

"Everything about that is wrong, Hank!" Buffy spat, emphasizing her use of his first name. "You can't just show up and expect us to forget the past! How do I know you won't walk out on us again? How do expect me to trust you?"

"All I want is a chance to start over," Hank pleaded. "I know I've made mistakes in the past, but I want to make it up to you."

"Mother?"

Buffy spun around and saw Micah standing at the back door. "What is it, sweetie?"

"Caddie said you were upset," Micah replied. She glared at Hank. "Is he upsetting you? Do you want me to I kill him?"

Buffy sighed, though she was secretly pleased by the flash of alarm that passed across Hank's features. "No, Mic. You can't kill him. This is Hank Summers, my father."

Micah crossed her arms. "I am _not_ calling him 'grandfather,'" she said stoutly.

"Didn't say you had to, honey," Buffy assured her.

"Buffy, who is that?" Hank whispered. Micah easily overheard the question and her pale, luminous eyes flashed indignantly.

"This is Micah," Buffy interrupted before Micah could say anything. "Angel and I are in the process of adopting her."

"Isn't she a little old for you?" he asked. "I mean, you're only twenty-one."

"We fostered her for a long time," Buffy replied vaguely. "Mic, honey, why don't you go back inside and tell Caddie I'm fine, okay?"

Micah nodded and, with another glare at Hank, retreated indoors. Buffy turned back to Hank. "You probably should be going," she said with a hint of warning.

"Okay," he said meekly. "I'll, um, call sometime." He said it more as a question, and Buffy only shrugged in reply. As soon as he left, Buffy walked back into the house, where everyone was waiting for her.

"What did he want?" Angel was the first to ask the question they were all waiting to hear.

"He's moving to Sunnydale," Buffy said wearily. "What are we going to do? How am I supposed to explain having a twelve-year-old daughter? This is not what we need right now!" Seeing Caddie's hurt and confused expression, Buffy held her arms out. "I didn't mean that about you, sweetie."

Caddie snuggled against her mother. "You meant that he wouldn't understand if you told him you raised me in a different dimension," she clarified.

"Exactly," Buffy told her.

"Well, I'm sure we can throw up a decent smokescreen," Oz said from where he stood behind Willow's chair. "We've done it before lots of times."

"The thing is, Hank wants to 'get to know us again.'" Buffy used air quotes to emphasize her words. "Him getting involved—not good with the Slaying."

"We'll figure something out, beloved," Angel assured her. He peered into the kitchen. "Is lunch ready? I'm starving."

"Oh, me too," Doyle agreed instantly, already heading toward the food. Angel followed him closely.

"You really should think about it," Angel told his best friend. "Talk to her."

"I'm not sure that's where we're at in our relationship," Doyle protested.

Buffy shook her head. "What are they on about?" she asked.

"Whether or not Doyle and I should have kids," Cordelia replied casually, picking up her discarded magazine.

Buffy's eyebrows shot up. "What do you think?" she asked her friend.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Duh, _yeah_. We did, after all, kind of miss out on Caddie's childhood."

Caddie frowned, not sure whether to take that as good or bad, and looked over at Willow. "Do you want to have children?" she asked innocently. Willow blushed bright red and stammered something unintelligible. Oz put his arm around his fiancé and smiled at Caddie.

"Kids are definitely an option," he told her.

Angel and Doyle appeared carrying platters of food. While the others were distracted by the meal, Angel pulled Buffy into the living room. "How terrible would it be if your father knew about you being the Slayer?" he asked softly.

"Are you kidding?" Buffy hissed. "He'd try to get custody of Dawn! And probably Caddie, too. He's not like Mom; he wouldn't understand."

"Okay. We'll just have to come up with a convincing cover story. Like Oz said, a smokescreen."

Buffy sighed and wrapped her arms around herself. "I don't know if I can pretend, Angel. I've had nothing to do with him for twelve plus years. God, this is all so confusing! I can barely remember him at all, just that I hated him for leaving and hurting Dawn, except Dawn wasn't actually _there_."

Angel put his forehead against hers. "If we have to, Oz, Doyle, and I can chase him away. I won't let him hurt you again, Buffy. I don't care if he's your father. You and the girls come first."

Buffy stood on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly. "Did I ever tell you I love you?" she asked with a tired smile.

He smiled back. "Only about a hundred times or so. I love you, too."


	13. Chapter 13

Caddie shrieked and took off running, sand spraying under her feet. Micah sprinted along behind her, water slopping over the edge of the bucket she carried. The Fey easily caught up with the other girl and tossed the contents of the bucket over her, drenching her in seawater. Caddie sputtered and clawed her wet hair from her face.

Micah stood just out of striking distance with a smug grin firmly in place. "You are going to pay for that," Caddie threatened. Micah tossed her head.

"You'll have to catch me first!" she declared.

"No, she won't," Angel said, and upended his own bucket over Micah's head.

Micah gave a yowl that sounded very much like an angry cat and launched herself at Angel. They both tumbled onto the ground, wrestling back and forth until they were coated head-to-toe in white sand. Dawn ran over and began pelting them with seaweed until Angel picked her up bodily and tossed her into the water.

Buffy laughed at her family while staying clear of the action. Micah and Caddie had been begging to go to the beach ever since Dawn had told them about it, and she and Angel had finally relented.

"Mother! Mother, look what I found!" Caddie ran up to Buffy and held up a delicate, white sand dollar the size of her palm. "Father says it used to be alive."

"He's right. They're called sand dollars and that's kind of like their skeleton that gets left behind when they die."

"It's pretty," Caddie said. "May I keep it?"

"Absolutely," Buffy said. "You can put it with the rest of your things." Caddie had started a collection of odds and ends that had caught her eye: a blue feather, bits of quartz rocks, glass beads, a twist of colored yarn. She was quite the magpie.

Caddie brightened at the suggestion and gave the sand dollar to Buffy to hold on to before running back to join her father, sister, and aunt. Buffy shaded her eyes and watched them. They were adapting so well; it gave her hope.

"They really are beautiful."

Buffy jumped and whirled around, already berating herself for allowing someone to get so close without her noticing. "_Hank?_" she asked in disbelief. "What the hell are you doing here? Are you following me?"

Her father flinched at the accusation. "No, no. I was just…walking, you know. Enjoying the beach. I happened to see you and I thought, well, okay." He hunched his shoulders. "You obviously don't want anything to do with me. I'll just go now."

Buffy almost let him go, but then she remembered what Giles had said. "Wait," she called after him. He spun around, looking ridiculously hopeful. "You can stay for a few minutes," she offered grudgingly.

"O-okay," Hank said. After a moment of awkward silence, he gestured to where the girls were playing in the waves, Angel watching anxiously (Caddie and Micah couldn't swim). "I didn't get introduced to the little one."

"Her name is Cadence, but we call her Caddie," Buffy said. "She and Micah have been fostered together their whole life."

"So you decided to take them both," Hank concluded, nodding. "It's very generous of you, you know, taking them in so early in your married life."

Buffy shrugged, not sure what to say. Angel glanced over toward her and frowned when he saw who was with her. He cocked an eyebrow, asking if she was okay, and she assured him with a tilt of her head.

"I'd, uh, like to have you over for dinner," Hank said quickly. "All of you. Dawn, your husband, the girls. Nothing formal, just barbeque at my place. Do you think we could make it work?"

She stared at him for a moment, her mouth opening and closing. "Can I bring friends?" she finally blurted. If the others were there, even just Giles, she'd have a buffer between her and Hank, a sort of comfort zone.

"I was kind of hoping it'd be a family affair," Hank said.

"Oh." Buffy crossed her arms. "I'll, uh, talk to Angel about it and get back with you, okay?"

"Okay." Hank nodded, and made an aborted gesture as if unsure what to do next. He abruptly turned and walked away, leaving Buffy alone.

"Mother!" Micah called, waving emphatically. "Come play with us!"

Buffy pushed all thoughts of her father aside and ran down to meet her family.

*****

It was several hours after dark when they finally got back home. After the beach, they had stopped by the Magic Box, which turned into an invitation to Willow and Oz's for dinner, and then the whole group went out for ice cream, much to Caddie and Micah's delight.

"I don't understand how she can be that pale and not burn," Dawn said as they stepped through the living room. She herself sported the bright red consequences of forgetting to re-apply sunscreen. Micah, however, was as pale as ever.

"I'm cold-blooded," she replied as if that explained everything. "I need the sun to maintain my body heat. My skin is more resistant to UV radiation than yours, that's all."

"Besides, she isn't human," Caddie added as she followed the two older girls. Suddenly the blood drained from her face and she dropped the bag she was carrying. "Mother!" she screamed.

Angel was right behind her. "Honey, what is it—oh, God!" He clapped his hand over his nose and mouth, struggling against nausea.

"What? What's happened?" Buffy demanded, gathering Caddie to her side.

"Blood," Angel replied thickly. "Caddie smelt it first." Micah sniffed the air, her brow furrowed.

"It's not human. It smells strange. Almost dead," she observed clinically.

"Stay here," Angel instructed, edging around the group and through the dining room. He saw the first smear of blood across the tile, glistening redly in the light. The scent of it made him gag; he would recognize it anywhere.

Vampire blood.

Spike lay in a fetal position between the island and the sink. His clothing was torn and soaked in blood. Angel went down on one knee beside his grand-childe, gently turning him over. Bone glinted through the gashes down the vampire's side.

"Buffy!" Angel called.

She appeared in the kitchen a second later. "Oh my God," she whispered, her hand flying to her mouth. It had taken a lot of convincing to get her to allow Spike to live in their basement, but she had accepted the fact he now had a soul.

"Go upstairs and start running a bath," Angel instructed. "We need to clean and bind his wounds so he can eat. And make sure Dawn keeps the girls away. They don't need to see this." As Buffy left, Angel grabbed a dishcloth and started to wipe some of the blood away so he could assess the damage. It was horrific. "Damn," Angel muttered. "What did this to you, William?"

Buffy came back into the kitchen. "I've got the bath ready and the girls are in their room. What else do you need?"

"Bandages and blood," Angel replied, picking the other man up in his arms. Spike was, thankfully, rather lean, and weighed a lot less than one expected. "We'll need several pints, so grab whatever's in the fridge." It was hard navigating the stairs, but Angel finally managed to get Spike into the bathroom and removed his ruined clothing.

It was even worse than Angel thought. There was barely any skin on the vampire's body that wasn't bruised, scraped, or slashed. The water was dark red by the time Angel let it drain out. By then, Spike had stopped bleeding; there was no blood left in him.

"What do you think did this to him?" Buffy asked as she and Angel began bandaging the wounds. Spike moaned and flinched a little at their touch, but didn't regain consciousness.

"Several things," Angel replied grimly. "This is a knife wound here, but those bruises are from a club of some sort, and that looks like someone tried to stake him," Angel pointed to the hole a few inches from Spike's heart.

"They missed," she said softly. "And he managed to drag himself home."

"Let's get him lying down," Angel said. They maneuvered Spike into the master bedroom. "You have the blood?"

Buffy nodded and indicated the row of bottles on the dresser. "Do you think he'll make it?"

Angel grabbed one of the bottles. "I don't know," he replied.


	14. Chapter 14

Buffy woke to the sound of someone rummaging around in the fridge. She lifted her head groggily, unwilling to leave the warm cocoon of blankets she had made on the couch. "Angel?" she called. He stuck his head out of the kitchen.

"Good morning."

"What are you doing?" she asked, blinking the sleep out of her eyes.

"I had to run to the butchers for Spike. Just putting the blood away."

"Who's with Spike, then?" Buffy asked, struggling to sit upright. She had snatched a few hours of sleep between caring for the brutalized vampire, but she was still exhausted.

"Dawn's sitting with him," Angel replied, handing her a mug of coffee. "She's pretty worried about him, you know."

"Yeah." Buffy sipped at the hot liquid, reluctant to dwell on her sister's relationship with Spike. "Any signs of improvement?"

"He'll swallow whatever we put into his mouth, but he hasn't woken up yet," Angel told her, sitting down on the couch next to her.

"So we still don't know who or what did this to him," Buffy said with a sigh. "Ugh."

"I've been thinking," Angel said softly, combing his fingers through her hair, straightening the tangles. "Whoever attacked him could have done it because he's associated with us."

"That's a lovely thought," Buffy mumbled darkly as the phone began to ring. She snatched it from the cradle. "Hello? Oh, hi Giles. We did?" she glanced over at Angel. "We were supposed to be at the Magic Box at nine," she whispered. Angel winced and looked guilty. "Sorry, Giles, it kind of slipped our mind. We came back last night and found Spike in the kitchen. Um, unconscious actually," Buffy rubbed her forehead. "Someone did a real number on him; he'd almost bled dry. He hasn't woken up yet, or we'd have asked. Yeah, so we're probably not going to make it in today. Sorry. All right. Talk to you later."

She put the phone away and began unwrapping the blankets. "I guess I'd better go relieve Dawn," she said. "When did he last eat?"

"Why don't you take a shower and get breakfast first?" Angel suggested. "I'm going to change Spike's bandages. You don't need to be there for that."

"Okay," Buffy leaned over and kissed him lingeringly. "I like seeing you first thing in the morning," she told him with a smile.

"Me, too." He kissed the tip of her nose and headed for the stairs. "Breakfast, remember!"

After a shower and a hastily gulped-down bowl of cereal, Buffy ventured into the sickroom. Angel was putting the old, bloody bandages in a garbage bag while Dawn straightened the blankets. Spike moaned and stirred faintly, his blue eyes opening briefly.

"Traitor," he mumbled, before slipping away again. Buffy stared at Angel.

"What the hell?"

"Did he mean we're the traitors or a traitor did this to him?" Dawn asked nervously.

"Probably the latter," Angel said, heading to the bathroom to wash his hands.

Buffy leaned over the edge of the bed. "Damn it, Spike, wake up and tell us what happened," she muttered. She jumped when the phone rang again and she snatched it up. "_What_?" she snapped.

"Buffy, uh, is this a bad time?" Hank asked hesitantly.

"Yes," Buffy said sharply. "What do you want?"

"Well, I was wondering if you had talked to Angel about coming over."

Buffy sighed and shook her head. "Listen, Hank, today is not good. Maybe we can work something tomorrow if Spike wakes up."

"Spike? Who's Spike?"

Buffy sighed again. "A friend. He—he got hit by a car."

"Oh. I'm so sorry. Is he going to be okay?"

"We don't know yet. I have to go, Hank. I'll call you back later." As she replaced the phone, Angel looked up at her.

"You should go," he told her. "Take Dawn and the girls."

"Why?" she asked, startled.

"Think about it as a way to figure out whether or not he's serious about repairing the relationships," Angel explained. "If he's not, then you never have to see him again. I promise."

"What about Spike?" Buffy asked, waving her hand at the comatose vampire.

"I don't want to go," Dawn said. Buffy startled; she had forgot her sister was in the room. "I want to stay here with Spike."

"There's nothing you can do for Spike right now, Dawn," Angel said gently. "You should go and be with your father."

Buffy ran her fingers through her wet hair (she hadn't taken the time to blow-dry). "Fine. The sooner we get this over with the better. We'll go over to his place tomorrow."

*****

Giles let himself in the front door of the Summers' house. He had been given a key shortly after Joyce had passed away. The gesture meant a great deal more to him than Buffy realized. He spotted a child's jacket on the floor and stooped to pick it up. The house was quite full now, with three girls under the age of sixteen plus an undead tenant.

Giles headed up the stairs, still carrying the jacket. He hung it over the doorknob of the girls' room before knocking gently on the door of the master bedroom.

"Giles? That you?" Angel called softly.

"Ah, yes, it's me." The Watcher pushed the door open. Angel sat by the bed, a battered-looking paperback in one hand. Giles' gaze flicked to the figure under the sheets, stirring fretfully. "How—how is Spike?"

"It's a good thing vampires aren't susceptible to infection," Angel said wearily. "He still hasn't woken up."

Giles moved closer so he could see the extent of his injuries. "Oh, dear lord!" he exclaimed at the number of white bandages. Spike turned his head toward Giles and opened his eyes.

"What's a watcher doin'?" he mumbled, and closed his eyes again.

"He's been in and out all morning," Angel said, getting up and stretching. "That's about as cognizant as he's gotten."

"And you still have no idea what happened?"

Angel rubbed his forehead. "None whatsoever."

Giles nodded wearily. "Buffy and the girls are over at her father's?"

"Yeah. They left about an hour ago."

"Angelus?"

Both men turned to Spike, who was trying to focus his ice blue eyes on Angel's face. "Not right. Angel now," he muttered to himself. "Liam's dead and gone."

"Spike, are you awake?" Angel asked softly, unsure if this was simply another of Spike's half-delusional mumblings.

"I think so," Spike replied. "Unless this is a dream. No, I hurt too sodding much."

Angel patted Spike's shoulder. "Don't worry. You'll pull through. What happened to you, Spike?"

"Was out for a walk. Basement walls were closing in, see?" Spike tried to get up, but the weight of Angel's hand on his shoulder kept him down. "Saw them just standing there. Didn't look right so I went to go see. They didn't like it. Didn't like it at all." Spike winced shifted to find a more comfortable position.

"What can you tell us about your attackers?" Giles asked.

"They were from Wolfram & Hart," Spike replied. "Heard them talking. Come to get the little girls back. Talking to a man."

"A man?" Angel demanded. "What man? A contact?"

Spike nodded. "They told him to get close to the Slayer. Find a way to get her off her guard."

"What else?" Angel tightened his grip on Spike's shoulder and the vampire flinched away. His brow furrowed in thought.

"I remember something else," he said after a minute. "They called him Hank."


	15. Chapter 15

They had finally made it past the awkward silence stage after Caddie innocently asked Hank what Buffy had been like as a child. That set off a nostalgic monologue that had Buffy and Dawn rolling their eyes and Caddie and Micah giggling in disbelief.

"You know, it really is a shame Angel couldn't make it," Hank said as they sat at the outdoor table on his back porch. "I'm sure he could tell some stories about when you were dating, huh?"

Buffy looked away. "Yeah. Well, we had a…interesting relationship."

"Like, they tried to stay away from each other and then he broke up with her 'for her own good,' but obviously that didn't work," Dawn said around a full mouth.

"Dawnie!" Buffy hissed, kicking her under the table. She looked up at her father. "Angel decided to stay with Spike."

"Your friend who got hit by a car," Hank said, nodding. "How is he doing?"

Buffy sighed. "Not much better, I'm afraid."

Suddenly Micah sat up, sniffing curiously. Caddie, noticing her sister's interest, scented the air. "Is someone else coming, too?" she asked naively.

"Uh, no. No… what are they talking about?" Hank asked, suddenly looking nervous.

Buffy was on her feet in a flash when the first black-clad assailant entered the yard. She jumped up onto the table, scattering condiments, and launched herself into an impressive spinning kick that connected with enough force to bowl the attacker over.

"Dawn! Get them out of here!" Buffy yelled. Caddie fled to Dawn's side, aware that she would be useless in a fight. Micah, however, bared her fangs and moved to help her mother.

Dawn grabbed Caddie's arm and ran around the side of the house, her mind racing. She needed a phone. She needed to call Angel. She skidded to a halt when she caught sight of more SWAT look-alikes. They ducked behind a bush, trying to make themselves as small as possible.

"Dawnie! Over here!" Dawn cast around and saw Hank waving at her. "Come on, hurry!"

Dawn tensed in preparation to dash over to her father.

"No! Dawn, wait!" She looked over her shoulder and saw Spike standing on the sidewalk looking like death warmed over. "Over here, with me!"

"Dawn, hurry!" Hank called again.

"Don't go with him, bit," Spike said. He held his side and winced. "He's trying to take the girls away!"

Dawn turned horrified eyes to her father, who shook his head. "He's lying, Dawnie! I'd never do anything to hurt you!"

"Dawn, trust me," Spike pleaded.

That did it. Dawn, still gripping Caddie's arm, raced across the lawn towards Spike. She screamed as two of Wolfram & Hart's retrieval team converged on them, but Giles appeared wielding a long wooden stick. He swung it with all his strength, and when it connected with the first henchman, the man screamed and fell to the ground, twitching. Giles lashed out at the second, easily felling him.

"I believe we should vacate the premises," he said, handing Dawn another of the magical shock sticks.

Buffy had felt more relief than surprise when Angel barreled into the fray, snarling like Angelus unchained. When she saw the fury in his eyes, she realized that just might be the truth. She ducked under a punch and couldn't spare her husband any more attention.

Micah moved like smoke and water. She had been bred to kill and from birth that's all she had been trained for. But she was young and small, and a single blow, if it landed, was enough to knock her off her feet. She rolled across the grass, ignoring her split lip, and launched herself back at the one who had struck her. She kicked his leg out from under him, forcing him to go down on one knee, and dragged her knife across his throat. Blood sprayed across her face, a horrible contrast to her pale skin and purple bruises.

The smell of blood overwhelmed her, awakening a feral instinct she didn't know she had. With a scream like an angry cougar, she leapt at the next attacker, her knife swinging in a deadly arc. The henchman lifted his weapon almost casually and discharged a jolt of electricity enough to knock a grown man off his feet. Micah dropped to the ground, temporarily stunned. The henchman knelt, pulling restraints from his belt, only to have his skull crushed when Buffy kicked his helmet in.

The Fey child scrambled to her feet, nodding to assure her mother she was okay. Then she caught sight of the traitor; the man who lured them into this trap. Micah screamed again, this time in rage, and bounded across the yard. Hank saw her coming and tried to ward her off, but her momentum knocked them both to the ground.

"How could you do this?" she hissed as they struggled. "How could you betray Mother?"

Hank managed to toss her away and got to her feet. "You wouldn't understand," he snapped at her.

"I don't need to," Micah replied. Her hand flashed out, and Hank's expression twisted into confusion. He reached up with both hands to grip the knife handle protruding from under his collarbone. He gave a strange squeak and coughed, blood pouring down his chin. He sank first to his knees, and then he toppled forward onto the grass.

Micah stood panting, staring at the body of her grandfather. She noticed that the sounds of struggle had faded and she looked up to see her parents watching her with mixed expressions. Buffy was shocked, unable to accept the fact that her daughter had just killed her father. Angel's expression was harder to read, but Micah thought she saw approval in those dark eyes. Then Angel turned and walked away.

*****

Dawn had cried herself to sleep in Spike's arms and Caddie wouldn't let Buffy out of her sight. Micah refused to speak to anyone and remained curled up on the couch until long past midnight. Then she crept up the stairs and peeked into the room she shared with her sister.

Buffy lay on the bed next to Caddie, who was sleeping fitfully, whimpering in her dreams. Micah pushed the door open and Buffy glanced up, their eyes meeting. They looked at each other in silence until Micah finally spoke.

"Do you hate me?" she asked simply.

Buffy shook her head. "I could never hate you, Micah."

"I killed your father," she said bluntly.

"He was trying to take you and Caddie away from me," Buffy replied with a cold glint in her eye. "No one does that and survives."

"Does Father hate me?" Micah asked, approaching the bed. Buffy sat up, her brow furrowed.

"Why do you ask?" she demanded.

"He left," Micah said, putting her head on Buffy's shoulder. "He hasn't come back."

Buffy sighed. She wasn't sure where Angel had gone, or how long he would be. He had said nothing to her before walking away from the battlefield, but the demon in his eyes made her worry. Not, of course, that she would tell Micah that.

"Your dad has things he needs to take care of," Buffy said softly, hugging Micah close to her. "He'll be back soon. What you did has nothing to do with it."

"Sometimes I think I frighten him," Micah whispered. "Sometimes I think he doesn't love me as much as he loves Caddie."

"That's not true," Buffy said fiercely. "He loves you both very much. He just doesn't understand you as well as I do. Give him time."

Micah blinked against the tears pooling in her pale eyes. "Did I do the right thing?" she asked plaintively. Buffy rested her cheek against Micah's black hair.

"You did what you had to do," she replied, knowing the hollow comfort of her words.

*****

Angelus stood on the sidewalk, his hands in the pockets of his trench coat. Across the street, the skyscraper windows were aglow, showing people moving back and forth, going about their business. Angelus's eyes moved across the building and down to the sign in front.

"Wolfram & Hart. Attorneys at Law."


	16. Chapter 16

Holland Manners' office was quiet. He rather liked it that way. It meant everything was going as planned, and that meant no heads were rolling. Literally. Life at Wolfram & Hart could be so uncertain sometimes. He picked up the monthly employee report on Lindsey McDonald and smiled. The competition between the young man and Ms. Morgan was quite satisfying. He couldn't wait to see who would win when their department was reorganized.

"Uh…sir? Mr. Manners?"

Holland sighed and looked up. "Yes, what is it, Charles?" he asked his assistant patiently. The man hovered in the doorway, holding a cardboard box as if it was about to explode.

"This came in the mail, sir. I think you should see it."

"Well, bring it over," Holland ordered, clearing space on his desk. Charles hurried over, deposited the box, and scuttled back out of striking distance. Hmm…interesting. Holland peered into the box and his eyebrows shot up.

It was a human hand, clenched into a fist. The packing pellets surrounding it were soaked in blood; it was very fresh. Something was written on the back of the hand. Holland turned the grisly object over with one finger. "_Revona_," it read in large, black letters. Very interesting indeed.

"It's—ah—we believe it's holding something," Charles pointed out. Holland checked and confirmed his assistant's statement. Holland gently pried the blood-spattered slip of paper free. The script was flowing and old-fashioned, but it was easily legible.

"_One won't be enough."_

"Charles, find out who this hand belongs to," Holland ordered.

"We already know, sir," Charles said. "It's Dr. Woldrich, sir. In charge if interdemensional travel. His last project was Revona."

"Well, then, I know exactly who did this," Holland said, more to himself.

Charles, mistaking the direction of his words, asked, "Shall I order a termination team?"

"No," Holland said. "I want to see how this plays out."

*****

Long days at the office were nothing new to Lilah. In fact, she had spent several consecutive days working on her largest cases. Still, she was relieved to be able to go home, take a long bath, and enjoy a glass of good merlot. She strode across the parking lot to her Lexus, the only sound the rhythmic percussion of her fashionably expensive shoes.

She tried to balance her briefcase, loose folders, jacket, and keys as she attempted to unlock her car and lost the keys. With a grunt of frustration, she piled the rest on top of her car and stooped for the keys. She stood up and almost dropped the keys again with a stifled scream.

A man leaned against the hood of her car. She could have sworn no one was there a second earlier. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and very attractive in a dangerous kind of way. His dark hair was gelled into spikes and his deep-set eyes were almost black.

"Lilah Morgan, right?" he asked casually. His voice was deep and deceptively quiet. There was something about him that set every warning bell ringing in Lilah's head.

"Yes," she replied, keeping her voice haughty. "I have normal business hours, if you'd like to make an appointment."

"I'm not here for your services," he replied, pushing away from the car and prowling toward her. Lilah tried to take a step backwards and realized he had her pinned against the car. "What do you know about Revona?" he demanded.

"Revona? What is that? Some kind of skin care product?" Lilah feigned ignorance. The man's eyes flashed angrily.

"It would be in your best interest not to lie to me," he warned. "I'll ask you again. What do you know about Revona and Parhon?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Lilah lied. The man smiled faintly; it was not at all a reassuring sight. Suddenly Lilah found herself facedown on the ground, the pavement being ground painfully into her cheek.

"Revona," the man growled. Then the cool touch of a knife blade kissed the side of her neck. Lila's mind raced. Her keys, and panic button, were gone. Her pepper spray was in her briefcase, as was her cell phone. She had no way to call for help.

"It's an alternate dimension," she gasped, deciding that it was time to start thinking about self-preservation. "It exists in parallel to ours."

"It was your idea to take the children, wasn't it? Take them where their families couldn't follow. Raise them to be slaves of Wolfram & Hart." The knife bit a little deeper into Lila's skin and she hissed in pain.

"No, no it wasn't my idea," she babbled. "It was Manners. Holland Manners. He authorized the project."

"Liar! I saw your name! You sent the retrieval team after them!"

Lilah realized that the man attacker could only be Angel, the former vampire and father of the prophesized Sun-caller. Unfortunately, that information didn't reassure her any. "Manners sent the team," she said quickly. "He was trying to clean things up after you compromised Revona."

"Hank Summers. What did you do to buy him? What did you do to convince him to turn against his own children?"

"Like I'm going to tell you in this position," Lilah retorted, deciding to make a bold stand. "We can make an exchange. You let me go, and I'll give you the information you want."

"I already have what I want," Angel hissed in reply, the knife sliding a little deeper. "Now I want you to bleed."

Lilah gasped in pain as a trickle of warmth slid down her throat. "All right, all right! I'll tell you! We promised to give his daughters back to him. Return them to the age they were when he left them so he could start over."

The knife stopped, and Angel was silent for a long time. "Bitch," he whispered, and Lilah's world went black.

*****

He had experienced a great many strange and frightening things during his many years with Wolfram & Hart, so unlocking his home office to find a stranger sitting in his chair didn't faze Holland Manners at all.

"Hello," he said genially. "What can I do for you?"

The man unfolded from the chair and circled the desk, moving with a predator's grace. "We haven't met," he said, his voice sparkling with false charm. "You're Holland Manners. I'm Angelus. Perhaps you've heard of me?"

"I had hear you had been…neutralized," Holland said tactfully.

Angelus shrugged rather theatrically. "Yeah, well, that's what _he_ wants people to think. The truth is, I never left. Right here the whole time, just waiting for the opportunity to get out."

"Well, congratulations on your emancipation," Holland replied. Angelus grinned dangerously and hopped up to sit on the desk.

"I've come through channels to find you, you know," Angelus said, playing with the brass figurines displayed on the desk. "You're hard to get a hold of."

"I'm a very busy man," Holland told him. "So please don't think me rude when I ask you to get to the point."

"Fine by me," Angelus got to his feet again and rubbed his hands together. "I'm going to kill you."

Holland cocked an eyebrow. "Are you now?"

"Yup," Angelus said. "I just haven't decided whether it's going to be fast or slow."

"And what have I done to earn such a consequence?" Holland asked, not concerned in the slightest.

"Well, first you kidnapped my daughter and took her to a demon dimension to be raised as your puppet, and then, when I finally manage to get her back00after twelve years, I might add—you sent a retrieval team to recapture her. That kind of pisses me off."

"I never expected such familial loyalty from one such as you, Angelus," Holland said, his face and voice betraying nothing.

Angelus began to pace. "You don't get it. It's not about loyalty. It's not about love. It's about what's _mine_. And you took what's _mine_ and tried to make it _yours_. And I just can't allow that."

"I think you should reconsider," Holland told him. "We could use someone with your philosophy."

Angelus seemed to consider that for a long moment. Then his head came up. Holland resisted taking a step backwards. Where his eyes had once been so dark they were nearly black, they now gleamed venom-yellow.

"Nope. Sorry. Too late." He lunged across the room and seized Holland by the neck. Angelus slammed the lawyer against the wall and lifted him until his feet dangled above the ground.

"I've decided," he hissed. "I'm going to go with fast." With a twist of his wrist, he snapped Holland's neck and let the lifeless corpse drop to the ground. He stood over the body, staring at it thoughtfully. Then he turned and left the way he had come: through the window.


	17. Chapter 17

It had been three days since Hank had betrayed them. Buffy shouldn't feel this hurt. After all, it wasn't as if she _loved_ him anymore, right? So why did her heart feel so heavy? Micah still slunk around as if Buffy was going to lash out at her at any minute. Buffy hadn't wanted it to end with Hank dead, but there really was no other alternative. Besides, she couldn't hate Micah for obeying her instincts. And there was a small part of her that wished she had been the one to kill the traitorous bastard. Buffy took another sip of her drink and winced as the alcohol burned down her throat.

"You'd better be careful with that," Spike warned as he nursed his own drink. "You'll regret it in the morning."

"Yeah, well, Slayers have higher alcohol tolerances than people think," Buffy replied. It had begun the first night Angel was gone: Spike and Buffy in the living room with tumblers of brandy. Never enough to get drunk; just to take the edge away. Mostly they sat in silence, but occasionally they talked. Sometimes Spike trailed off into confused ramblings, but for the most part he was sane.

"Angel would never let something like this sit," Spike said for the umpteenth time. "He's making sure you and the girls are safe." He tossed back the rest of his brandy. "Just wish he would've waited for me."

Buffy gave Spike a look. The vampire still had trouble going up and down the stairs, much less going on a revenge rampage. She sighed. "I don't think it's Angel out there, Spike," she said softly. He looked at her sharply.

"What, you think Angelus is back?" he demanded.

She shook her head. "I don't know. He told me that the demon's still there, that he's stronger as Angelus. I thought he was in control but—I just don't know."

"He'll be all right," Spike said, playing with his empty glass. "He usually is."

"Can we talk about something else?" Buffy asked a little irately. Spike cocked an eyebrow.

"Like what?"

"You and Dawn," Buffy shot back. Spike suddenly looked embarrassed and if he was human Buffy swore he'd be blushing.

"Let's not," he said.

"No, I think we do," Buffy insisted. "You care about her, don't you?"

"Well, I—I just don't want to see her get hurt, is all," Spike muttered, slouching in his chair.

"You _do_ care about her," Buffy said. "And I know she likes you. God, what is it with Summers girls and vampires?" She finished the last of her brandy and put the glass aside. "Absolutely no dating until she's sixteen, got it? I don't even want to hear you guys were alone in the same room."

Spike gave her an odd look. "You're not going to stake me?" he asked, sounding a little confused.

Buffy sighed. "Hello, dated a vampire myself? Don't really have the right to say no now that you've got a soul and all. About that, by the way..?" Spike shook his head and Buffy dropped the subject. "Sixteen, hear me?"

"Sixteen," he agreed.

They both jumped when the front door burst open and Angel stumbled through. Buffy was on her feet in a flash and rushed to her husband's side. "Angel! Where have you been?"

He grabbed her shoulders, his eyes wide and frightened. "Buffy," he whispered, and his eyes flashed yellow.

"Hello, lover," he said with a twisted smirk. "Did you miss me?"

Buffy did the only thing she could think of. She hauled back and hit him square in the face.

"What the bloody hell?" Spike exclaimed, hovering on the sidelines. "What was that about?"

"That's not Angel," Buffy whispered, looking down at the unconscious body at her feet.

"Oh…bollocks," Spike muttered.

*****

_No no no no. I won't let you hurt her. Not again. I won't let you._

**You can't stop me. I'm in control now. There's nothing you can do, Soul-boy.**

You aren't strong enough. I'm human. This is my body. The curse is gone and you can't hurt us anymore.

**Look again. Who's calling the shots? Besides, you're **_**glad**_** I took out Manners and the doctor and that Lilah bitch. You wanted to see them bleed as much as I did.**

No. Not like that. You've destroyed enough lives. I don't need any more on my conscience.

**Well, see, that's why you've got me. I have no conscience. So I can give in to all those dark impulses you try to hide from your precious Slayer. What's she going to do when she finds out her beloved Angel isn't as pure as she thought he was?**

_Leave her alone! Don't you dare lay a finger on her!_

**Are you insane? I'm not going to hurt her. She's mine now. And you know I like to enjoy what's mine.**

"Angel? Angel, can you hear me?"

Groggy brown eyes blinked open and tried to focus on the face-shaped blob hovering above them. Hands rose to probe the bruises forming along the jaw and encountered resistance. Angelus lifted his head and realized he was chained to the wall in the basement.

"Didn't know you were into bondage, lover," he taunted.

"Angel?" she said again, ignoring the demon. "Come on, honey, I know you're in there."

_I'm here, beloved! I'm right here!_

**Shut up, you weak fool. She can't hear you.**

"Angel please, fight him," Buffy pleaded. "You're stronger than this."

"He's the one that released me," Angelus told her with a smirk. "You don't think he could kill them on his own? He needed my help."

_No! He's lying! I never meant for him to escape!_

"You're lying," Buffy said softly. "You always lie. Now get out and give me my husband back."

"Get out?" Angelus scoffed. "Not a chance. This is where I belong. And now that I'm in control, we can start having fun."

Buffy stared at him for a long time. "You're not in control," she said. "You're weak. You're barely a shadow of what you used to be. A vampire demon has no place in a human, and you know it. You're desperate."

Angelus lunged toward her, stopped only by the chains. "Shut up, you bitch!" he screamed. "You're fucking wrong!"

_No, she's not. She's right and you know it. You _are_ weak. And you don't belong here._

**No! This is mine now! Mine! I won't give it up!**

You won't have a choice. You're not strong enough to stop me.

Buffy gasped and stepped backwards when Angelus shrieked in pain and convulsed, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. "Angel?" she called worriedly. "Angel, what's happening?"

He went limp suddenly, panting unevenly. Buffy crept closer, even venturing to touch his cheek. "Angel?"

His eyes snapped open and she snatched her hand away. "Buffy?" he whispered. "Buffy, I'm so sorry."

"Angel!" She threw herself into his arms and buried her face against his chest. "What happened? Where did you go? Why did Angelus come?"

"I didn't let him out, beloved. I swear. I was just so angry he found a way to escape and I couldn't stop him." In a whisper, he continued, "I'm not sure I wanted to."

"What did he do?" Buffy asked.

"He killed them. The ones who took Caddie and Micah and tried to take them again. They're gone."

"Good," Buffy said coldly.

Angel shook his head. "I let him control me. I put you in danger."

She cut him off by crushing her mouth against his, slipping her tongue past his lips. "Angelus didn't hurt me," she said after they came up for air. "And it won't happen again, right?"

He stared at her for a long time. "Right," he promised. She kissed him again, first gently and then more passionately, pressing her body against his. "Um, beloved?" he mumbled against her lips.

"Hmm?"

"The chains?"

"Oh. Right."

*****

Nathan Reed looked around his new office and smiled. Nothing like the murder of your superior to give you a step up the ladder. It was a shame he hadn't been the one to give Holland Manners that last send-off. Oh well.

He glanced down at the files scattered across his new desk. Revona. Slayer, the. Sun-caller, the. With a contemptuous gesture, Nathan swept them into the trash. He wasn't going to make the same mistakes his predecessor had.

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The Cadence Saga will continue in "Written in Blood." Keep reading!


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